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LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  Of 
CALIFORNIA 


AN 

X    ' 

IDYL  OF  THE  SOUTH 


BV 

ALBERY  A.  WHITMAN 


AN  EPIC  POEM  IN  TWO  PARTS 

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NEW    YORK 

THE  METAPHYSICAL  PUBLISHING  COMPANY 

1901 


<C  LIBRARY  O 
CONQRC39, 
Two  COAU  ftioovto 

APR.  5   1901 

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COPY  B 


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International  Copyright,  1901 

by 
TM«  MKTAFHYSICAL  PUBLISHING   COMPAJ.Y 

All  righu  reterved. 


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CONTENTS 


PART  I.       , 

*  '  THE  OCTOROON 


PART  II. 
THE  SOUTHLAND'S  CHARMS 

AND 

FREEDOM'S  MAGNITUDE. 


.736 


PREFACE 


In  "An  Idyl  of  the  South"  I  have  aimed  to  tell  the 
story  of  an  Octoroon.  •  ,  '  r 

Her  life  discloses  a  type. 

My  readers  will  form  their  own  conclusions  of  the 
sociological  conditions  suggested  by  the  narrative.  It  were 
better  to  think  over  some  things  in  silence  than  to  discuss 
them  openly. 

The  story  is  true  to  the  life.  It  strikes  at  the  root  of 
certain  conditions  which  have  been  thrust  upon  us  by  the 
humiliating  consequences  of  Slavery. 

Some  complications  in  the  social  order,  obtaining  in  the 
development  of  the  South  before  the  War,  are  exceed 
ingly  interesting  from  our  present  viewpoint,  instructed  as 
we  are  by  the  larger  observations  and  experiences  of  a  more 
enlightened  civilization,  v  v 

I  hope  to  deal  with  certain  new  phases  of  the  subject  in 
a  work  which  is  to  follow  this  volume. 

The  eventualities  of  Emancipation  and  Reconstruction 
are  upon  us  for  consideration,  and  some  deep  and  grave 
matters  cannot  be  thrust  aside  as  trivial  things. 

The  reckoning  must  come. 


t  No  nation  can  ever  rise  above  the  level  of  its  virtues. 

Love  is  always  an  interesting  subject.  Love  is  the 
only  Redeemer  of  intelligent  being.  Love,  not  Law,  must 
regulate  the  movements  of  all  bodies  in  the  moral  universe. 

The  story  of  the  Octoroon  will  have  much  to  do  with 
this  sweet  and  potential  influence. 

We  shall  find  that  love  does  not  always  exist  between 
equals  only,  but  from  the  very  beginning  this  chubby 
autocrat  of  the  affections  has  audaciously  presented  the 
"Sons  of  God"  to  the  "daughters  of  men."  And  history 
is  radiant  with  the  fact  that  absolute  Power  has  often  shared 
the  throne  with  the  helpless  divinity  which  we  call  woman. 

The  story  of  the  Octoroon  will  also  show  that  true  love 
is  ever  exalted  by  the  very  helplessness  of  the  object  of  its 
regard ;  yet  it  will  not  act  under  a  base  license,  lest  it  be 
consumed. 

Under  the  established  orders  and  customs  of  society, 
marriage  is  not  always  possible,  not  always  proper  or  per 
missible.  What  is  even  more,  society  may  contemn,  and 
the  law  may  positively  prohibit  marriage  between  different 
peoples,  but,  wherever  wedlock  is  not  possible,  true  love  is 
an  absolute  barrier  to  any  degradation  of  the  sexes. 

This  is  the  strong  point  brought  out  in  the  story  of  the 
Octoroon. 

Divine  Love  Himself  stooped  to  the  sweet  helplessness 
that  washed  His  feet  with  her  tears  and  wiped  them  with 
the  locks  which  adorned  her  shoulders. 

If  woman  would  learn  a  secret  greatly  to  her  advantage, 
let  her  study  this  lesson  ;  and  if  man  would  redeem  the 
world  and  conquer  it  unto  himself,  let  him  convince  woman 
that  her  very  dependence  upon  him  makes  her  to  need  no 


other  protection  than  his  love  for  her  and  his  faith  in  her, 
which  render  it  impossible  to  doubt  her  purity. 

The  story  of  the  Octoroon  will  show  these  things. 

The  story  is  written  in  verse  because  verse  seems 
better  suited  to  the  subject,  and  it  is  easier  for  me  to 
express  my  fancies  in  "  regular  numbers." 

To  me  the  South  is  all  a  great  poem.  What  bard  of 
hers  will  ever  write  for  us  a  pastoral  of  ante-bellum  days; 
or  the  tragedy  of  the  Civil  War,  with  its  climax  of  the 
dying  Confederacy  ;  and  Grant  and  Lee  at  Appomatox, 
with  the  crowning  sorrow  of  Lincoln's  assassination?  Who 
will  give  us  the  epic  of  Emancipation,  the  farce-comedy  of 
Reconstruction,  the  romance  of  Agriculture,  or  the  hymn  of 
her  prosperity? 

Who  will  sing  the  "New  Song"  of  the  South? 

With  all  her  antecedents  of  slavery  and  all  the  darker 
shadings  of  the  "Race  Problem,"  I  love  the  South.  My 
people  should  not  speak  ill  of  our  home-land,  because  we 
have  had  to  suffer  wrongs  and  hardships  here.  Would  we 
not  have  had  such  sufferings  elsewhere?  May  we  not  look 
for  triumphs  here?  May  we  not  be  nearing  the  borders  of 
our  desert-journey? 

A  race  which  has  given  the  world  so  much  of  its  cheer 
fulness,  and  made  it  so  much  better  by  its  songs  and  its 
prayers,  should  not  despair  in  a  land  where  the  magnolia 
and  the  cape  jassemine  reach  the  perfection  of  flower  and 
perfume,  and  the  mocking-bird,  wild  and  free,  sings  through 
all  the  year. 

ALBERY  A.  WHITMAH. 


PART  I. 
THE  OCTOROON 


r/r 


J 


AN  IDYL  OF  THE  SOUTH 


1      ,    ' 


PART  I.    <• 

•  •  <> 

i        *       -3£"  ^ 

'       THE  OCTOROON. 


STANZA  I. 

Hail !  land  of  the  palmetto  and  the  pine, 

From  Blue  Ridge  Mountain  down  to  Mexic's  sea : 
>  Sweet  with  magnolia  and  cape  jessamine, 

And  thrilled  with  song,— thou  art  the  land  for  me! 

I  envy  not  the  proud  old  Florentine 
The  classic  beauties  of  his  Italy  ; 

Give  me  but  here  to  have  my  glory  dream, 

'Mid  fragrant  woods  and  fields— by  lake  and  stream. , 


8  AN  IDYL  OF  THE  SOUTH. 


Come  with  me  then, — who  have  your  leisure  hours— 

Where  mem'ry's  path  divides  a  fragrant  shade ; 
Here  on  the  lap  of  old  Acadian  bowers, 

Come,  rest  you  where  no  vulgar  sounds  invade. 
Come,  for  the  air  is  fresh  with  sparkling  showers, 

And  dark  with  curtains,  of  magnolia  made  ;  ' 

So  from  life's  care  awhile  come  sit  apart, 
And  listen  to  a  story  of  the  heart. 


3      - 

I  shall  not  sing  to  you  a  sounding  lay 
Of  gods  contending  till  the  lurid  air 

Is  hoarse  with  the  loud  fury  of  their  fray; 

Shall  not  recite  the  lofty  deeds  and  rare,— 

The  glories  which  attend  the  heroes'  way;      . 
But  I  shall  lead  you  where  the*  walks  are  fair; 

Where  tufts  of  shade,  and  now  and  then  a  song, 

Wait  to  delight  us  as  we  pass  along. 


THE  OCTOROON.  j  9 


.  ^  4 

The  truthful  story  which  !  here  relate, 

Must  run  on  like  the  prattling^of  a  rill; 
On  heights  of  pleasure  we  shall  sometimes  wait, 

Through  winding  vales  shall  loiter,  if  we  will; 

f 
And  we  shall  find  that  not  among  the  great, ' 

An  Eden  may  the  lover's  dream  fulfil; 
But  lowly  walks  the  fairest  ends  may  bring,— 
A  lovely  slave  may  even  charm  a  king.  ' 


5 

'Mong  hills  of  sturdy  oak,  my  native  land, 
Where  roll  the  waters  of  the  Tennessee, 

And  palmy  groves  on  Tampa's  sea-washed  strand, 
Are  shrines  of  love  forever  dear  to  me. 

And  where  the  old  Acadian  mansions  stand 

Mid  strange  lagoons  and  by  the  dark  Swanee, 

I  knew  a  Creole,  tall  and  lustrous-eyed;          ' 

And  in  my  heart  I  hold  her  still  with  pride. 


10  AN  IDYL  OF  THE  SOUTH. 


There,  in  the  shadow  of  the  cypress  wood, 

Where  brooding  Silence  showed  its  thankful  face; 

Where  moss-draped  trees  like  Druids  praying  stood; 
I've  seen  this  idol  of  a  gentle  race, 

When,  like  a  spirit  of  the  Solitude, 

A  paragon  of  Southern  pride  and  grace, 

She  there  inhaled  the  breath  of  fragrant  bowers — 

The  sweet  extravagance  of  shrubs  and  flowers. 


When  joyous  as  a  brook  that  in  its  flow 

Descants  of  promise  in  a  hopeful  lay,      . 

Which  ever  leads  the  hearing  soul  to  know 
That  bliss  awaits  us  in  a  coming  day. 

I've  watched  her,  where  the  minstrel  warblers  go 
*    Among  dark  boughs,  all  undisturbed  and  gay, 

When  floods  of  song  their  brilliant  joys  revealed, 

And  felt  that  beauty  to  their  hearts  appealed. 


THE  OCTOROON. 


J 


11 


And  I  must  tell  you  of  this  Octoroon, 

This  blue-eyed  slave,  what  sounds  like  a  romance: 
Her  master  was  a  fair  young  man,  and  soon 
r  '      The  proudest  soul  that  Love,  in  seeming  chance, 
Had  led  beneath  the  full  round  Southern  moon, 

To  coax  sweet  eyes  to  give  him  glance  for  glance; 
And  with  her  happy  speech  and  sparkling  wit 
His  fair  slave  charmed  his  soul — and  captured  it 


! 


A  lithe  and  shapely  beauty;  like  a  deer, 

She  looked  in  wistfulness,  and  from  you  went; 

With  silken  shyness  shrank  as  if  in  fear, 
And  kept  the  distance  of  the  innocent. 

But,  when  alone,  she  bolder  would  appear; 
Then  all  her  being  into  song  was  sent, 

To  bound  in  cascades — ripple,  swirl  and  gleam,    • 

A  headlong  torrent  in  a  crystal  stream. 


12  AN  IDYL  OF  THE  SOUTH. 

10 

Her  name  was  Lena.     She  was  but  a  child 

In  all  save  beauty ;  but  she  was  a  slave. 
In  far  Unyoro's  wastes,  Obokko's  wild, 

.  Or  by  the  blue  N'yanza's  boatless  wave, 
Where  hearts  by  worldly  gr^ed  were  uudefiled, 

'Mid  Afric's  groves  some  sweet  ancestress  gave 

*-       ••    •* 

The  strain  of  life  which  now  still  rushed  along, 
To  warm  her  soul  and  break  in  tides  of  song. 


II 

White  wonder  of  creation,  in  our  clime, 
'Mid  vistas  cool  and  in  the  dark  recess, 

She  mused  where  Nature  wrought  the  true  sublime, 
And  wove  a  habit  for  wild  loveliness. 

There  where,  like  sentinels  at  the  gates  of  Time, 
Old  live-oaks  stood  in  grim  and  sober  dress; 

She  learned  the  stately  mien  and  charming  speech, 

Which  only  our  old  Southland's  scenes  could  teach. 


THE  OCTOROON. 


13 


Where  Meditation  found  a  leafy  shrine. 

And  Vision  wandered  in  a  waste  of  bloom, 
She  touched  her  lips  to  Fancy's  ruddy  wine/* 
-      And  knew  the  bliss  of  Pleasure's  rare  perfume. 
Where  zephyrs  round  her  like  sweet  nuns  did  pine, 

Who  whispered  prayers  in  some  old  cloister's  gloom; 
Superb  in  form,  divinely  sweet  in  face 
She  grew — the  charm  of  her  delightful  race. 


13 

With  her  young  master  she  had  strolled  the  green 
When  Heaven  was  in  a  shining  overflow; 

Had  watched  the  stars  the  sleepy  boughs  between, 
When  winds  crept  by,  almost  afraid  to  blow. 

But  not  as  wooers  had  they  thus  been  seen,— 
Not  as  mere  lovers  at  the  trysting, — no! 

The  gentle  slave  no  friend  had  ever  known 

But  her  proud  master,  and  she  was  all  his  own. 


14  AN  IDYL  OP  THE  SOUTH. 


14 

He  was  of  manly  beauty — brave  and  fair; 

There  was  the  Norman  iron  in  his  blood. 
There  was  the  Saxon  in  his  sunny  hair 

That  waved  and  tossed  in  an  abandoned  flood;        •     , 
But  Norman  strength  rose  in  his  shoulders  square; 

And  so,  as  manfully  erect  he  stood, 

Norse  gods  might  read  the  likeness  of  their  race .  .    .-• 

In  his  proud  bearing  and  patrician  face. 


15 

A  slave  she  was,  but  beatiful  and  dear! 

.  Her  ancestors  had  ridden  with  Hamilcar, 
With  heads  of  kings  swung  to  their  horses'  gear, 

Upon  the  one  hand;  while  at  Trafalgar, 
When  England's  fleets  made  trembling  Europe  hear, 

And  flung  the  borders  of  her  reign  afar, 
They,  on  the  other  had  with  Nelson  stood — 
Who,  then,  we  ask,  could  boast  of  prouder  blood? 


THE  OCTOROON. 


15 


n 
No  Cleopatra  nor  Semeramis; 

No  jewelled  favorite  of  a  Persian  throne,  -.)  < 

Could  ever  have  the  lily  soul  of  this       ^    ^ 

Young  slave,  who  through  the  old  South  walked  alone, 
'Mid  fields  of  waving  grain,  and  knew  tfie  bliss 

Of  wading  where  the  clover  was  full  blown; 
And  listening  to  the  music  of  the  boughs, 
While  on  the  meads  she  heard  the  lowing  cows. 


17 

Slaves  have  been  many — Roman,  Persian,  Greek, 
And  harem  beauties — Indian,  Hindoo,  Turk, 

With  eyes  whose  luring  depths  could  softly  speak, 
Of  souls  wherein  consuming  passions  lurk;     *V 

With  shapely  forms,  on  soft  divans  antique; 

Where  lace  clouds  hung  in  dreams  of  handiwork; 

Sweet  sounds  Eolian  through  soft  labyrinths  crept;  .  • 

And  fragrance  breathed  where  dainty  zephyrs  slept. 


16 


AN  IDYL  OF  THE  SOUTH. 


18 

These  creatures  of  the  languid  Orient, — 

Rare  pearls  of  caste,  in  their  voluptuous  swoon 

And  gilded  ease,  by  Eunuchs  watched  and  pent, 
And  doomed  to  hear  the  lute's  perpetual  tune, 

Were  passion's  toys — to  lust  an  ornament; 

But  not  such  was  our  thrush-voiced  Octoroon, — 

The  Southland  beauty  who  was  wont  to  hear 

Faith's  tender  secrets  whispered  in  her  ear. 


19 

"An  honest  man's  the  noblest  work  of" — Nol 
That  threadbare  old  mistake  I'll  not  repeat. 

A  lovely  woman — do  you  not  think  so? — 

Is  God's  best  work.    That  she  is  man's  helpmeet, 

The  Bible  says,  and  I  will  let  it  go; 

And  yet  she  crowns  and  makes  his  life  complete. 

Who  would  not  shrive  himself  in  her  dear  face, 

And  find  his  sinless  Heaven  in  her  embrace! 


THE  OCTOROON.  IT 


Young  Maury  loved  his  slave — she  was  his  own; 
A  gift,  for  all  he  questioned,  from  the  skies. 
.    No  other  fortune  had  he  ever  known, 

"  Like  that  which  sparkled  in  her  wild  blue  eyes. 
Her  seal-brown  locks  and  cheeks  like  roses  blown, 

Were  wealth  to  him  that  e'en  the  gods  might  prize. 
And  when  her  slender  waist  to  him  he  drew, 
The  sum  of  every  earthly  bliss  he  knew. 


.  They  had  grown  up  together, — he  and  she — 

A  world  unto  themselves.     All  else  was  bare,-—  ; 
1  A  desert  to  them  and  an  unknown  sea.  -    • 

Their  lives  were  like  the  birds'  lives — free  and  fair, 
And  flowed  together  like  a  melody. 

They  couid  not  live  apart,  Ah!  silly  pair! 
But  since  she  was  his  slave,  what  need  to  say,  ,     ,  •  , 
A  swarm  of  troubles  soon  beset  their  way? 


18  AN  IDYL  OP  THE  SOUTH. 


32 

(- 

Just  In  the  dawn  of  blushing  womanhood; 

Her  swan-neck  glimpsed  through  shocks  of  wavy  hair; 
A  hint  of  olives  in  her  gentle  blood,  v  «  r    « 

Suggesting  passion  in  a  rosy  lair; 
This  shapely  Venus  of  the  cabins  stood, 

In  all  but  birth  a  princess,  tall  and  fair; 
And  is  it  any  wonder  that  this  brave 
And  proud  young  master  came  to  love  his  slave? 


He  was  a  handsome  and  a  noble  fellow,—  ; 

Her  master  was,  and  now  the  hour  was  late. 
The  moonlight  in  the  mulberry  leaves  was  mellow, 

Or  rather,  silvery  soft,  and  seemed  to  wait; — 
The  moon  had  smiled  when  he  began  to  tell,— oh, 

Well,  I  might,  perhaps,  as  well  not  state 
What  this  young  Saxon  told  his.  Octoroon, 
When  they  were  looking  at  the  happy  moon. 


,—  ', .;  ,   C  . 

THE  OCTOROON.  19 


-  J 


The  dark  shades  round  with  fire-fly  swarms  were  blinking, 
And  in  the  stillness  of  the  mulberry  tree  . 

There  was  suggestion, — to  my  way  of  thinking 
"The  trees  may  listen  and  the  stars  can  see, —   . 

The  leaves  had  breath,  the  stars  were  through  them  winking, 
And  shadows  seemec)  to  veiled  spectators  be; 

When  Lena,  looking  in  her  master's  face, 

With  sinless  trust  leant  in  his  strong  embrace. 


25 

O'er  her  white  brow  the  wistful  moonbeams  stole, 
And,  tangled  in  her  tresses,  seemed  detained; 

But  soon,  like  fleeting  fancies  in  the  soul^ 

Were  gone; — ahl  could  they  only  have  remained. 

And  when  night's  minstrel  bird  began  to  troll, 
And  pour  her  song  in  torrents  forth  untrained, 

To  rill  through  boughs  and  float  along  the  skies,     .  • .  - 

The  slave  girl  sighed  and  raised  her  wondering  eyes. 


• 

20  AN  IDYL  OP  THE  SOUTH. 


26 

And  Maury  clasped  her,  waving  like  a  spray; 

He  stroked  her  locks;  he  tossed  them — let  them  fall; 
And  saw  the  scattered  moonbeams  flash  away, 

Like  silver  arrows  from  a  golden  wall. 
And  there  were  whispers  then  like  elves  at  play, 

And  through  the  leaves  the  winds  began  to  crawl; 
When  Lena  listening,  heard  her  heart's  quick  beat, 
And  startled,  thought  she  heard  approaching  feet. 


27 

And  am  I  doing  violence  to  taste, 

Or  pride,  or  honor?    Call  it  what  ye  will. 
What  of  it?    Why  let  beauty  run  to  waste, 

And  hateful  weeds  Love's  blissful  Eden  fill?  ' 
Or,  why  should  manhood  suffer  heartless  caste, 

To  rob  the  bosom  of  its  passion-thrill? 
Young  Maury  loved  his  slave,  and  he  was  free  C , 

From  meddling  tongues  beneath  the  mulberry  tree. 

I 


is          •  ••       ,.      c 

THE  OCTOROON.  21 

-J 

28  ' 

If  It  be  shame  to  love  a  pretty  womarr, 

Then  shameful  loving  is  a  pretty  thing. 
And  of  all  things  the  most  divinely  human 

V 

Is  this: — Love  purifies  life's  Fountain  Spring; 
And  he  who  has  not  quaffed  that  fount  is  no  man— 

Pd  rather  be  a  lover  than  a  king. 
And  then,  preach  as  we  will  or  may,  we'll  find 
That  Cupid,  dear  young  god,  is  sometimes  blind. 


29 

Fair  Dixie  Land,  thy  sons  of  old  were  brave, 

And  earth  proclaims  thy  daughters  passing  fair; 

Thy  blood  and  ancient  prestige  I  would  save,        •  ; 
Since  time  atones,  and  kindly  bids  me  spare; 

But  why  despise  a  daughter,  though  a  slave, 
Who  was  as  taintless  as  the  mountain  air? 

Why  shun  her,  as  a  Magdalene  within 

Thy  gates,  when  beauty  was  her  only  sin? 


22 


AN  IDYL  OF  THE  SOUTH. 


As  homeward  with  his  maid  young  Maury  went, 
His  father  shortly  met  him  in  the  way, 

And  asked  abruptly— what  such  conduct  meant; 
But  would  not 'hear  what  Sheldon  had  to  say. 

His  heart  was  fixed  and  on  prompt  action  bent; 
He  threatened  in  his  ire  to  bring  dismay 

To  son  and  slave— "to  drive  from  home  the  pair"; 

But  Sheldon  smiled  to  see  him  "  beat  the  air." 


31 
Love  will  not  work  by  diagram  or  chart; 

Will  not  be  schooled  by  old  Sobriety,— 
Can  not  be  reckoned  as  a  "polite  art;" 

Nor  as  a  child  of  "good  society" 

•Not  wholly  so,— love  rules  or  wrecks  the  heart. 
Now  Sheldon's  father  preached  propriety; 
For  he  was  old  enough  to  do  such  preaching, 
But  Sheldon  was  too  young  to  heed  the  teaching. 


...  c 

THE  OCTOROON.  23 


V.  .  J 

3* 

,  Fair  Morn's  descent  upon  the  ocean  shore 

To  sprinkle  rock  and  wave  with  pulverin 
Of  mystic  gold;  the  sound  of  breakers  o'er 
The  lone  beach  piling;  the  adjacent  din 
,  Of  woods;  the  storm's  cry  and  increasing  roar 
Of  distant  thunders,  move  the  soul  within; 
But  lovely  woman  beats  earth,  sky  and  ocean 
In  stirring  manly  souls  with  deep  emotion. 


33 

And  Maury  could  no  more  prevent  his  heart 

a  :••     From  feeling  than  he  could  the  tide  prevent, 

When  Lena  from  her  soul  a  song  would  start; 

Or  round  him  like  an  angel,  brightly  went. 
The  fine  suggestions  which  he  saw  in  art,  » 

In  her  were  strong  with  all  that  living  meant, 
And  so  his  heart  ran  wild,  and,  without  thought 
Of  consequences,  in  him  now  had  wrought. 


24  AN  IDYL  OF  THE  SOUTH. 


34 

f  ;'        I'j, 

Infatuation.    But  it  would  not  do. 

"A  shame! "  his  father  cried,  and  then  looked  grave.     • 
'*  The  girl  was  good  and  pretty,  that  he  knew; 

But  Sheldon  must  remember — was  his  slave." 
Into  a  rage,  the  young  man  straightway  flew; 

Against  "Society"  began  to  rave; 

%          ( 

Withdrew  and  walked  alone  or  stood  morose, 
As  if  the  world  for  him  held  only  foes. 


35 

Refusing  food,  he  scarcely  spoke  a  word, 

But  he  would  talk  with  Lena  when  he  could; 

And  from  his  room  upstairs,  he  seldom  stirred. 

"The  truth  was  clear,"  his  mother  understood. 

"  My  boy  will  lose  his  mind,"  she  oft  was  heard  - 

To  whisper.     "  Nay,  don't  cross  him  in  his  mood.1 

And  then  she'd  say  to  Lena:     "You  may  go 

And  tell  your  dear  young  master"  so  and  so. 


N.- 


THE  OCTOROON.-  25 


And  L,ena  went, — to  his  dear  arms  she  flew. 

A  gust  of  joy, — a  thousand  nothings  said; 
Heard  all  he  told  her, — told  him  jijl  she  knew, 

And  like  a  burst  of  sunshine  round  him  played. 
Ah!  she  was  helpless,  but  her  hdart  was  true; 

And  woman's  heart  when  true,  with  earth  arrayed 
Against  her,  conquers  all,  and  ever  will. 
The  gods  are  with  a  loving  woman  still. 


37 

Thus  runs  the  story  of  an  Indian  bride: 

'Mid  virgin  woods  along  the  rolling  James, 

A  sweet  young  savage  spies  a  white  man  tied,— 
Ah!  sneer  not  now,  sophisticated  damesl 

Loves  him  at  sight  and,  flying  to  his  side, 
Her  only  plea,  a  woman's  love  proclaims. 

And  Powhattan,— for  what  else  could  he  do?— 

Accepts  her  plea,  and  loves  the  captive,  too. 


26 


AN  IDYL  OF  THE  SOUTH. 


38  • 

Joy  now  finds  wings, — the  news  spreads  far  and  wide, 
And  festal  wood-fires  stream  through  spectral  boughs; 

For  Pocahontas  is  a  white  man's  bride,— 

A  virgin  savage  hears  the  white  man's  vows. 

She  is  to  be  his  wife,  his  country's  pride, 

Her  people's  cause  his  country  shall  espouse; 

And  while  thenvinding  James  shall  roll  along, 

The  forest  glades  repeat  her  bridal  song. 


39 

How  weirdly  grand  the  tale  has  seemed  to  me, 
Of  Pocahontas  and  her  lover,  who  . 

Perhaps  sat  on  the  trunk  of  some  eld  tree 

And  watched  the  evening  star  go  blazing  through 

Dark  tops  beyond,  and  saw,  as  lovers  see, 
A  nascent  moon  unrobing  to  the  view; 

While,  as  they  watched,  he  told  her  how  the  night 

Is  earth's  great  shadow  following  its  flight. 


THE  OCTOROON,  27 


40          J 

.  He  may  have  told  her  how  that  shining  star 

Goes  round  and  round  forever  and  forever; 
And  that  it  is  so  far  off— O,  so  faj! 

A  bird  could  fly  and  reach  it  never,  never. 

Or  told  her  what  new  moons,  what  full  moons  arc, 

\        t 
And  found  himself  repaid  for  his  endeavor 

When  he  looked  in  his  dusky  pupil's  eyes, 
Aglow  with  love  and  sparkling  with  surprise. 


41 

Perhaps  he  spoke  of  lands  beyond  the  sea; 

Of  cities  and  great  "  wigwams  "  built  of  stone; 
With  walls  as  high  as  any  forest  tree; — 

Said  she  one  day  should  such  a  wigwam  own. 
And  then,  I  ween,  she  nestled  lovingly,  t 

And  felt  his  arm  around  her  gently  thrown;      4 ' 
And  from  that  hour,  true  love  has  kept  her  shrines 
Beneath  the  old  Virginia  oaks  and  pines. 


28 


AN  IDYL  OF  THE  SOUTH. 


42 

Now  Lena  was  the  child  of  teeming  farms; 

The  squaw-girl  was  a  native  of  the  wild. 
The  one  was  rich  with  thought's  distinctive  charms,— 

The  other  simply  Nature's  untaught  child. 
The  one  held  faith  clasped  in  her  glowing  arms; 

The  other  held  a  stranger's  hand  and  smiled. 
And  Lena's  cheeks  with  health's  proud  rose  were  tinted,    * 
While  in  the  squaw-girl's  ne'er  a  rose  was  hinted. 


43 

Great  Randolph,  genius  of  the  acrid  tongue, 

Eccentric,  proud,  whose  words  in  high  debate, 

Were  wasps  of  fire  that  scorched  and  hit  and  stung 
When  he  that  hawk-voice  pitched  to  irritate, 

And  haughty  challenges  were  lightly  flung; 

The  hounds  and  Negroes  on  his  vast  estate, 

Fared  better  than  the  noble  Senators, 

Who  dared  to  meet  him  in  polemic  wars'. 


THE  OCTOROON.  '    * '  29 


44. 

And  Randolph  claimed  that  blue  blood—bluest  blue— 

And  blood  of  Pocahontas  in  his  veins 
Their  torrents  wildly  clashed  andmingling  threw. 

And  so,  he  stood  aloof  in  pride's  domains, 
While  love  of  country, — only  love  he  knew,— 

Was  all  that  gave  his  life  those  nobler  strains         4 
Which  charmed  his  great  compeers, — their  country's  pride- 
Made  them  his  friends,  and  drew  them  to  his  side. 


45 

The  "Sage  of  Ashland"— earth's  unrivalled  Clay, 
Lashed  by  his  wit  and  withered  by  his  scorn, 
Sought  the  ignoble  "  code  "  to  wipe  away 

The  biting  insult,  and  though  mighty-born,— 
The  Cicero  of  his  historic  day — 
.    .    His  life  was  thus  of  highest  glory  shorn, 
Till  kindlier  age  to  him  had  reconciled 
The  proud  descendant  of  Powhattan's  child. 


30  AN  IDYL  OP  THE  SOUTH. 


46  W^^wm 

But  to  our  story  let  us  now  return:  $  . ;" 

Young  Maury  grew  more  moody  every  day, 
And  his  proud  mother  thought  she  could  discern          ;v:W 

His  mind  "  beginning,  plainly,  to  give  way."       •  .  v 
But  "  Wait,"  his  father  urged;  "  I'll  have  him  learn      .  ^ 

That  I  can  check  him  in  his  childish  play. 

* 

I'll  sell  the  girl  and  straightway  let  her  go; 

But  till  she's  gone,  I  will  not  let  him  know."  •  ? 


47 

"My  way  is  clear.    The  affair  I'll  thus  arrange: 

I'll  carry  Lena  with  me  up  to  town 
Upon  a  visit. — This  will  not  seem  strange, — 

And  thence  I'll  hire  Hanks  to  take  her  down  • 
To  Major  Royall's.    Then  my  son  may  change 

His  course  or  stop.     And  when  he  has  outgrown 
The  whims  and  foibles  of  a  vapid  mind, 
He'll  laugh  to  think  he  once  was  color  blind." 


THE  OCTOROON.!   /./. 


48  ' 
The  mother  shook  her  head  and  sadly  smiled; •:  -  V;<«'  •  : 

And  said,  "  I  have  not  anything  to  say.M'Y  ;  r:  »Y 
But  vowed  :  "  I  never  will  be-feconciled,  '"  ^r  ;'-»•• 

Will  not  agree  to  send  the  girl  away.  !  '  Lrizii  -  ii 
She  is  my  slave  and  nothing  but  a  child;  '  ;:•'"'/  " 

And  she  has  done  no  crime  ;  say  what  we  may/? 
And  as  she  spoke,  the  mists  came  in  her  eyes  v  v: ••> 
Like  hints  of  rain  which  fill  blue  summer  skies.  >>  :; 


49 

"  My  boy,"  said  she,  "  I  know  has  but  one  thought?    ,y  • 
"  And  that  is  to  befriend  a  helpless  girl.   /  •. ,  '!'{ 

And  did  he  not  do  so,  he  surely  ought.       :     .;  *.  .•  j.  j.,~:  j 
She  is  as  brightly  pure  as,any  pearl          <  ;  >  j/; 

Wave-hued,  from  deepest  caves  of  ocean  brought;      .7  .,'! 
And  Sheldon  Maury  is  nor  knave  nor  churl!"     ». 

And  brighter  sparks  from  flint  were  never  dashed,  V  ,,/j- 

Than  now  from  this  proud  lady's  blue  eyes  flashed.    ."  ^\ 


32  AN  IDYL  OF  THE  SOUTH. 


5° 

But— love  his  slave!    Could  such,  a  proud  man  do? 

Should  this  with  shame  not  hang  a  Maury's  head? 
Nay,  loving  arms  which  Lena  fondly  threw 

Around  her  master's  neck,  while  her  eyes  plead 
With  tender  flame,  moved  him,  and  rightly,  too. 

For,  did  not  Persia's  Monarch  love  a  maid 
Who  was  a  slave  in  Shushan, — crown  her  queen, — 
The  meek  ancestress  of  the  Nazarene? 


51 

•i* 

And  Moses,  great  law  lord  of  Mount  Sinai; 

Found  in  a  desert  path  of  Midian 
A  dark-eyed  Shepherdess,  lute-voiced  and  shy, 

With  Jethro's  flocks,  her,  cheeks  were  olive  tan,          ."  • 
Tinged  by  the  glare  of  an  Egyptian  sky,— 

And  claimed  her  for  his  bride,  far  worthier  than 
The  titled  beauties  of  the  Memphian  court, 
Who  led  imperial  rakes  in  royal  sport.  :'\ 


\ 


THE  OCTOROON.  33 


52 

And  'mong  the  flowers  in  Bethel's  corners  hid, 
•     A  sweet-faced  mourner  gleaned  the  scanty  grain; 
When  lordly  Boaz,  noting  whaft  she  did, 

Called  to  the  young  men  in  his  harvest  train, 
And/  pointing,  said:  "To touch  her  I  forbid." 

But  drop  for  her  some  handsful  from  the  wain." 
"Yea,"  cried  the  reapers,  and  were  singing  heard;—    - 
But  Boaz,  he  hung  back  to  speak  a  word. 


S3 

The  flower  of  Moab,  blushing  at  his  feet 

Among  the  sheaves,  was  sweet  to  look  upon. 
She  sat  and  sang,  and  filled  her  lap  with  wheat; 
'v/r  She  sang  of  Israel.    The  harvest  sun 

Was  in  her  face,  but  once  she  glanced  to  meet 
The  eyes  of  Boaz  and  the  work  was  done; 
Her  soul  was  in  her  lovely  eyes  disclosed, 
/  And  Boaz  faced  his  sunrise, — he  proposed! 


34  AN  IDYL  OP  THE  SOUTH. 


54    ;  •;;•;. 

How  sweet  to  think  that,  if  the  golden  grains  , ,  \ 

Of  life's  imperial  harvests  never  fall        <  -.,, .  :,  > 

~r  J 

Upon  our  threshing  floors,  there  still  remains       ..;»  ,   .   .'  // 

A  sheaf  for  gleaners, — that  we,  after  all, 
May  follow,  and  behind  the  reapers'  wains,        r;  ,•>./.  !vV 

Take  up  love's  scattered  handfuls,  though  but  small.         r 
That  Fortunatus,  where  he  passes  through,    r:&.  :/; 

Must  still  leave  work  for  loving  hands  to  do.  ./  >  . 


55 

Before  the  world,  I  hold  that  none  of  these:       ,  ,;J; .,,  • , 
The  Shushan  slave,  the  Oreb  shepherdess,    :/i -[^:- 

Nor  Moab's  gleaner,  ever  had  the  ease 

Of  carriage,  grace  of  speech,  the  stateliness 

Of  step  and  pose,  nor  had  the  art  to  please 

And  charm  with  symphonies  of  form  and  dress, 

Nor  had  such  wond'rous  eyes,  such  lovely  mouth, 

As  had  this  blue-eyed  daughter  of  the  South! 


\ 


THE  OCTOROON.  35 


. 

Had  priest  or  prophet  ever  heard  her  singing, 
Or  seen  her,  where  the  clover  was  in  bloom, 

Wuding  knee-deep,  while  larks  were  upward  springing, 
And  winds  could  scarcely  breathe  for  want  of  room— 

Thus  seen  her  from  the  dappled  hillsides  bringing 
The  cows  home,  in  the  sunset's  golden  gloom, 

Our  good  old  Bible  would  have  had  much  more 

Of  love  and  romance  mixed  with  sacred  lore.  •• 


57 

What  man  is  there  who  would  not  dare  defend 
A  life  like  this?     Is  doing  so  a  sin? 

Or  who  should  blush  to  be  known  as  her  friend? 

White  wonder  of  creation,  fashioned  in 
.The  moulds  of  loveliness;  kings  might  contend  :  '• 
On  martial  fields  a  prize  like  her  to  win,     /:  >  •- 

And  yet,  the  cabin's  hate  and  mansion's  scorn,— '•  • 

She  suffered  both,  betwixt  them  being  born. 


' .  i 


36  AN  IDYL  OP  THE  SOUTH. 


The  mating  bird  upon  the  freest  wing 

That  ever  cleft  the  woodland's  joy-tuned  air, 

Should  not  be  freer  for  her  mate  to  sing, 

Than  woman  should  be,  on  her  bosom  fair— 

Devotion's  home,  to  press  love's  offering; 

To  pillow  manly  faith  and  shrine  him  there. 

Thus  pure  and  free,  love  born  of  God  is  real, 

Is  soul  companioning  its  best  ideal. 


59 

When  genial  Spring  first  hears  the  mating  thrush, 
Where  waters  gossip  and  the  wild  flowers  throng, 

Love  rears  her  altar  in  the  leafy  bush, 

And  Nature  chants  the  sweetest  bridal-song. 

When  love  is  free,  with  madness  in  its  rush, 

Its  very  strength  defends  the  heart  from  wrong. 

Love,  when  untutored,  walks  a  harmless  way, 

With  feet,  though  bare,  that  never  go  astray. 


\ 


THE  OCTOROON,  37 


The  hedges  may  obscure  the  sweetest  bloom,-—  : 
The  orphan  of  the  waste, — the  lowly  flower;    - 

While  in  the  garden,  faint  foi^want  of  room, 

The  splendid  failure  pines  within  her  bower. 

There  is  a  wide  republic  of  perfume, 

In  which  the  nameless  waifs  of  sun  and  shower, 

That  scatter  wildly  through  the  fields  and  woods, 

Make  the  divineness  of  the  solitudes. 


61 

But  marriage  is  Love's  Heaven,  none  the  less; 

And  ceremony  is  a  happy  thing. 
And  beautiful  are  all  the  offices 

Of  our  religion.  When  fair  virgins  sing,  •  V  - 
The  organ  peals,  and  symphonies  of  dress  " 

And  flowers  before  the  altar  stir, — which  Spring 
Has  been  despoiled  of  bloom  to  decorate, —  •  .  - 
Then  marriage  truly  's  a  divine  estate! 


AN  IDYL  OF  THE  SOUTH. 


62 

That  is,  if  love  be  in  it.     If  the  heart 

That  throbs  and  trusts  beneath  its  clouds  of  lace,  »        . 

Be  innocent  of  the  dissembler's  art, 

If  there  be  inwardness  in  Love's  embrace;  \  , 

If  on  Life's  voyage  true  lovers  make  the  start, 

And  each  soul's  compass  is  the  other's  face; 
Then  there's  a  Wedding,  that  sweet  union  made, 
Which  "  none  may  sunder,"  as  it  hath  been  said. 

63 

But  music,  lace  and  flowers,  with  altar,  priest 

And  prayers,  have  never  made  a  wedding, — nay, 

Nor  ever  will!     I  would  not  say  the  least  i:  *  *    • 

Against  religion, — would  not  break  away  *•'"• 

From  her  restraints;  nor  have  doubt  in  my  breast  v^A 

That  there  is  good  which  comes  to  those  who  pray; 

But  it  hath  been  since  earth  first  saw  the  sun, —  : , 

No  power  but  love  can  ever  make  twain  one. 


\ 


t  n  '    THB;OQTQROON^   //  39 

S.-' 

64 ,,, 

O,  Earth,  Sea,  Stars  and  boundless  realms  of  air!  ,  ,..  .K  * 
What  were  ye  all  had  not  dear  woman  come  -  ;.,  :  • 

To  make  man  put  on  clothes  and  trim  his  hair.  ..  ,  :,i 

The  wide  world  would  have  been  without  a  home 

In  all  its  shades,  and  thistles  of  despair  t 

Would  have  sprung  up  where  naked  feet  must  roam! 

But  woman  came,  thank  Heaven! — Earth's  noblest  creature; 

And  woman's  love  lights  every  human  feature. 


0  Love!  thou  sweetest  influence  of  the  soul, — 

First-born  of  Heaven  and  earth, — thou  all-divine, 

1  bless,  I  worship  thee!    Thou  dost  control 

All  thrones  of  Light, — all  realms  of  song  and  shine; 
And  shouldst  thou  empty  forth  and  send  thy  whole 

Bright  colonies  from  those  high  worlds  of  thine, 
They  all  could  not  eclipse  one  loving  woman, 
In  frailty  so  delightful,  since  so  human. 


4O  AN  IDYL  OF  THE  SOUTH. 


66 

*~  • 

At  early  morn  the  old  plantation  stirred, 

And  toil  went  humming  in  its  usual  way, 

While  heart-born  shouts  in  all  directions  heard, 
Were  earnest  signals  of  a  busy  day. 

Then  Maury's  father  with  a  friend  conferred; 
And  calling  up  a  house  boy,  turned  to  say, 

With  nimble  speech  and  glibbest  unconcern: 

.'•  Bring  out  the  wagon.     Quick!  Let's  see  you  turn. 


The  patient  blacks, — those  children  of  the  sun, 
Were  singing;  in  the  distance  you  could  hear 

Their  song-bursts  as  if  angels  had  begun 

To  fill  the  clouds;  now  sang  they  loud  and  clear/ 

And  now  the  low  refrain  would  break  and  run 
Beneath  the  deep'ning  shadows  far  and  near, 

Throughout  the  cypress  groves  along  the  shore, 

Where  aspect  weird  the  Southern  landscape  bore. 


\ 


THE  dcTOROON.  «. 


Ribbons  of  sunshine  long  and  delicate,  '.  •   , 

Were  spun  out  through  the  mosses  on  the  trees;     ; 

And  in  the  depths  a  spirit  seemed  to  wait; 
A  breath  of  awe  hung  on  the  lazy  breeze; 

And  as  the  wagon  left  the  mansion  gate   • 

At  speed,  a  deep  suspense  the  girl's  heart  seized; 

But  there  was  naught  explained,  though  much  was  said, 

That  round  the  truth  through  hidden  meanings  led. 


69 

Oh,  Innocence,  and  must  it  ever  be 

That  violence  for  thee  in  wait  shall  lie? 

Since  beauty  is  a  snare,  a  net  to  thee, 

Spread  for  thy  feet,  an  exile  must  she  die, 

Whose  crime  is  love?    Oh,  hath  not  Chanty 
A  plea  for  her  that  will  be  heard  on  high? 

Nay,  Lena  must  depart,  and  can  not  know 

What  fate  compels,  nor  why  she  thus  must  go. 


AN  IDYL  OP :  THE  SOUTH. 


70- 

The  wagon  reached  the  town.     Hanks  was  on  hand,— 
He  always  was  on  hand  when  deeds  like  this 

Were  to  be  done.     He  had  at  his  command, 

The  roads  that  to  the  mountains  led,  and  his 

Proud  boast  was  that  he  "could  at  all  times  land 
His  expeditions,  and  not  go  ananss, " 

And,  it  must  be  confessed  by  all,  tkst  he 

Made  good  his  boast,  and  never  lost  a  fee. 


71 

Toward  distant  hills  now  Hanks  was  soon  away 

With  Lena;  still  she  knew  not  where  she  went. 

Her  surly  escort  had  no  word  to  say; 

But  kept  his  ugly  eyes  before  him  bent,  *. 

While  glances  from  their  depths  of  cruel  gray, 
Such  chills  of  fear  through  Lena's  being  senl; 

That  she  dared  not  risk  one  inquiring  look; 

But  feigned  good  heart,  though  she  with  terror  shook. 


\ 


:   •   THE  (icTOROON.     //  43 


?2    .: 

She  even  strove  to  force  a  pleasant  smile,  j  .  f 

When  Hanks  once  turned  to  touch  her  bloodless  cheeks. 

As  rough  as  sea  foam  though  his  face  the  while,  v,' 

The  poor  girl  thought  that  she  could  see  faint  streaks 

Of  kindness  showing  from  beneath  the  pile  ;!j 

Of  human  rubbish  which  this  fact  bespeaks; 

The  light  of  soul  in  woman's  eyes  expressed  -  •   .'•.-.; 

Will  conquer  man, — will  brutal  force  arrest.    -  .   ;  .•  .-  •, •.. ;/ 


73  ; 

In  striving  to  be  gallant,  Hanks  was  coarse;     >    .  '  ».r. 

He  moved  his  hands  as  "  Bruin  "  moves  his  feet/.' 
His  whispers  low  but  made  his  words  more  hoarse,  --^  -   -j 

As  waves  sound  harsher  that  in  dark  caves  beat.?; 
So  burly  an  excrescence  of  uncouth  force,    •»     ,  ;:-:  // 

He  still  had  heart,  and  Lena's  accents  sweet         ^ 
Had  touched  him.     She  was  gentle,  proud,  but  pretty; :..-;  i 
And  admiration  stilled  the  voice  of  pity.  •  ,  . ;     ,j  \.,n 


44  AN  IE>YL  OP  THg  SOUTH. 


74 

I've  read  of  Daniel  being  with  lions  penned;  V  V 

And  I  have  heard  the  legend  of  a  cage 
Of  wild  beasts  that  would  not  a  virgin  rend, 

Who  was  cast  in;  but,  in  this  prosy  age,  V 

When  wealth  replaces  angels  as  man's  friend, 

When  gods  and  miracles  have  quit  the  stage, 
It  should  be  treasured  in  undying  song, 
That  Hanks  said:  "  Lena,  you've  been  treated  wrong." 


75 

And  then  he  heid  and  stroked  her  trembling  hand, 
And  patted  it,  upon  his  rugged  knee. 

The  hours  went  by  till  Night  had  waved  her  wand 
Of  darkness  o'er  the  world,  and  rock  and  tree 

In  darker  forms,  like  giants,  rose  to  stand 

Along  their  way;  but  Lena's  heart  beat  free; 

An<i  nestling  near  her  keeper,  kind  but  coarse, 

She  felt  no  terrors  from  whatever  source. 


\ 


THE  OCTOROON.  45 


But  times  were  stormy  on  the  old  plantation. 

Ill  news  on  eager  wings  had  spread  uproar: 
The  Negroes  raised  a  mightyjamentation, 

And  went  about  the  outrage  to  deplore. 
"  Lena  was  sold! "    Ah!  now  was  tribulation, 

And  Grief  began  a  rain  of  tears  to  pour. 
The  master  watched  the  storm  that  he  had  made; 
But  trusted  that  it  soon  would  be  allayed. 


77 

The  old  men  muttered  prayers  and  went  about, 

Or  stood  dejected,  heeding  naught,  nor  speaking. 

Old  women  sobbed  and  moaned  and  then  shrieked  out,— 
Outspoken  anguish  kept  their  hearts  from  breaking. 

But  braver  spirits  here  and  there  would  shout 
Their  imprecations  upon  "all  de  sneaking 

Ole  niggah  buyers  dis  side  ob  de  Devil!". 

But  strange  to  say,  poor  souls,  they  spoke  no  evil 


46  AN  IDYL  OP  THE  SOUTH. 


,73 

Of  their  "  ole  Massa,"  who  had  made  the  sale.    • 

Well,  such  is  life.    We  oft  lose  sight  of  cause,  ,       v 


And  o'er  effect  set  up  a  noisy  wail; 

Too  oft  oppose  the  gathering  stream  by  laws; 
When  at  the  source  wise  actions  should  prevail. 

But  Lena's  master  made  of  proud  stuff  was; 
He  vowed — the  act  if  wrong,  was  his  own  doing, — 
His  way  was  his,  and  of  his  own  pursuing. 


79      - 

And  night  came  on.    Earth-jarring  thunders  roared 
And  rolled  afar.     Behind  the  inky  banks 

The  sun  had  sunk  in  terror.     Up,  up  soared 

The  scurrying  clouds  and  spread  like  serried  ranks 

With  murky  banners  flying,— swirled  and  poured 
Through  lurid  arches, — while  demoniac  pranks 

The  vivid  lightnings  cut  and  onward  came, 

Stabbing  the  darkness  with  their  spears  of  flame.    -. 


\ 


' ;  T  THE  OtrrOROON.; :   /  /  4Z 


Young  Maury's  horse  was  saddled  at  the  gate.   .  <  •>  - 
In  vain  the  Negro  servants  with  him  plead; 

His  father  called  to  him  in  vain  to  wait. 

He  waved  all  back  and  sternly  shook  his  Head. 

"  This  night  be  the  black  herald  of  the  fate 

Which  waits  him  who  opposes  me,"  he  said; 

41  And  but  for  age  and  blood,  my  sire,  I'd  wreak 

Swift  vengeance  on  your  head — but  vou  are  weak." 


81 

'  With  tears,  his  mother  stayed  him  in  the  door; 

He  kissed  her,  passed,  and  at  a  single  bound, 
Into  his  saddle  sprang.     "  By  Heaven,"  he  swore, 

"I'll  bring  her  back!"  and  wheeling  short  around, 
His  roweled  heels  against  his  horse  he  bore, 
*        That  forward  sprang,  and,  flying,  spurned  the  ground. 
And  through  the  dark,  these  words,  impassioned,  clear, 
"  Pll  bring  her  back,"  fell  on  the  listener's  ear. 


4B  AN  IDYL  OP  THE  SOUTH. 


,  82 

And  on,  right  onward  toward  the  hills  he  shot; 

On,  on,  and  on;  till,  miles  and  miles  away,  ••",•         ,. 

He  drew  his  reins  upon  an  abrupt  spot, 

Where  rocks  and  fallen  trees  around  him  lay;  r  . 

And  o'er  him  rose  a  cliff, — an  inky  blot 

On  outer  darkness;  when  he  heard  the  play 
Of  angry  waters  seething  far  below; 
And,  scorning  danger,  could  no  farther  go.  1 


83 

He  could  not  see  ahead;  would  not  retreat; 

But  gave  his  horse  the  reins  and  gently  urged.  * 
The  horse  reached  down  and  smelt  about  his  feet; 

Snorted  and  wheeled  and  like  a  tempest  surged1. 
But  Maury  grasped  the  reins  and  held  his  seat,* 

Until  his  curb-defying  horse  had  forged         '      . 
And  plunged  off  in  the  darkness.    Then  a  crash 
Of  thunder  seemed  the  mountain  tops  to  slash   •   '  * 


\ 


THE  O&TOROON.  49 


Away,  and  pile  the  tumbling  cliffs  around.     - 
The  distant  peaks  in  startled  haste  replied, 

And  peaks  more  distant  still  took  up  the  sound; 

Till  darkness  hushed, — in  awful  stillness  sighed, 
*  And  throbs  of  terror  shook  the  trembling  ground. 

"  Hold  on  thar,  stranger,"  now  a  cotter  cried;  * 

Who  in  his  doorway  heard  the  horse  dash  by.         .   % 

And  Maury  turned  to  see  whence  came  the  cry, 


•And  to  his  joy  he  found  an  open  door  .    • 

For  man  and  beast  the  cotter  soon  found  rest,— 

And  then  he  took  his  baby  from  the  floor, 

And  tossed  him  high  and  held  him  on  his  breast. 

And  said:  "  Now,  stranger,  we  be  mighty  poof; 
But  you  are  welcome  to  our  little  nest; " 

And  then  there  was  no  heed  to  outside  din,— 

For  only  peace  and  sunshine  reigned  within.  • 


50  AN  IDYL  OF  THE  SOUTH. 


86 

The  baby  pulled  his  father's  beard  till  drops 
Stood  in  his  eyes  as  big  as  morning  dew. .   ; 

The  father  tossed  him  almost  to  the  tops  •< .-.  f ; 

Of  the  low  rafters, — still  the  baby  crew. 

"Pull,  pull,"  the  mother  cried,  ''till  papa  stops." 

And  while  their  guest  looked  on,  they  never  knew 

That  in  his  heart  a  wilder  tempest  beat 

Than  that  which  shook  the  mountain  in  its  seat. 


The  morning  came  with  not  a  cloud  in  view, 
And  Maury  was  again  upon  his  way. 

The  birds  were  everywhere  in  brilliant  hue, 

And  thrilled  the  forests  through  the  livelong  day 

With  hours  of  vain  pursuit  he  weary  grew, 
To  chagrin  and  conflicting  fears  a  prey. 

But  Hanks  with  Lena,  as  the  sun  went  down, 

Had  reached  the  outskirts  of  a  country  town. 


\ 


THE  OCTOROON.     "  51 


8$    - 

They  saw  few  people  on  the  one  quaint  street          ; 

That  straggled  through  the  town  from  side  to  side; 
And  idlers  lounged  on  here  and  there  a  seat, — 

A  bench  or  box, — and  the  new-comers  eyed.  - 
But  soon  they  yawned  and  struggled  to  their  feet, 

And  round  the  buggy  stretched  their  necks  and  pryed. 
But  Lena  turned  away  her  modest  face, 
And  drooping  eyes, — a  blushing  rose  of  grace.          ;-  :   '  •  -  ' 


89 

"  I  know,"  one  drawled,  while  all  the  others  gaped;     !?     : » 
,;      "  I'll  bet  a  shuck  that  she's  that  feller's  bride!"    ' 
Then  he  looked  wise  and  all  the  others  aped 

His  stupid  looks  and  fell  back  satisfied.          •*•  •-"/ 
But  Lena  through  a  gateway  had  escaped, 

With  Hanks  in  rugged  chagrin  at  her  side,—      '  * 
And  thence  he  up  the  graveled  driveway  led,  •»•-.;. H-  -.  hi 

Where  dark  magnolias  round  their  curtains  spread.    • '   '--  -; 


52  AN  IDYL  OP  THE  SOUTH. 


,90 

An  old  slave  in  his  doorway  bowing  stood, 

A  statue  of  the  meek  in  ebony;  ? 

And  at  his  side,  an  image  of  the  good,  ; .  . 

His  dark  old  wife  was  peering  out  to  see; 
And  when  the  strangers  paused  as  if  they  would  , 

Her  cabin  enter,  struck  with  awe  was  she. 
While  her  old  partner,  raising  both  hands,  cried: 
"Good  Lawdy  Massa!  who's  dat  at  yo*  side?" 


9' 

"  Jes'  look,  ole  'oman,  dats  er  ainjul  shoV 

"  Young  Missus,  whar'd  you  come  from  ?  From  de  skies? 
Hit  pears  to  me  I'ze  seen  dat  face  befo'.  v 

God  bress  dat  lubly  mouf  and  dem  sweet  eyes! 
An'  would  you  stop  here  at  de  ole  man's  doah?" 

And  thus  in  his  delight,  mixed  with  surprise, 
This  sable  patriarch  of  slavery  days, 
Would  have  expressed  his  uncouth,  heartfelt  praise,  .  • 


<:  THE  bCTOROON.  53 


,  I 

92 

Embarrassing  with  exclamations  strange 

And  interjections  meek,  his  gentle  guest; 

But  Hanks  withdrew  his  feelings  from  the  range 
Of  these  sweet  motives  in  the  old  man's  breast; 

And  spurning  e'en  a  kind  word  to  exchange, 

The  old  spouse  in  the  doorway  thus  addressed: 

'.'This  here's  your  master's  niggah  house-gal,  aunty; 

She'll  stop  till  after  supper  in  your  shanty." 


11  'Er  niggah  house-gal!'    Wuz  dat  whut  he  said?"     . 

The  old  man  seemed  to  ask  with  wondering  eyes; 
And  then  he  paused  and  slowly  shook  his  head, 

And  muttered:  "You's  done  took  me  by  surprise, 
You  sho  iz,  Massa;  fur  if  I  didn't  dead 

Sho  think  she  wuz  er  lady!     But  I  tries" — 
Hanks  kicked  a  dog  that  came  about  his  legs;  turned 
And  blurted  out:  "Why  don't  you  keep  these  durned," — 


64  AN  IDYL  OF  THE  SOUTH. 


94 

But  now  the  dog's  howls  drowned  the  voice  of  Hanks; 

And  Lena,  frightened,  sprang  in  at  the  door; 
When  swarms  of  pickaninnies,  breaking  ranks, 

Round  cabins  flew.     "Get  supper;  say  no  more," 
Hanks  thundered.  "Thank  you,Massa!  Thank  you!  Thanks! 

Obejunce  to  you;  shorely,  to  be  shore!" 
The  old  slave  cried:  "De  supper  shall  be  got; 
Be  soonly,  'Liza,  an'  put  on  de  pot." 


95 

Hanks  "knew  his  route;"  he  had  brought  slaves  before, 

To  Major  Royall;  so,  to  him  he  went, 
Delivered  him  the  message  which  he  bore,  ' 

And  got  his  fee  and  a  fine  compliment. 
For  Major  Royall  was  "delighted  more  V 

Than  .tongue  could  tell;"  since  he  had  long  been  bent 
On  "owning  that  tall  girl  with  big  blue  eyes, 
Whom  Maury's  people  seemed  so  much  to  prize." 


\ 


,:THE  IDCTOROON.;   / /.  55 


f 

Then  Lena  threw  herself  across  the  bed,  .  » .  ».     •? 

And  vainly  sought  to  find  her  needed  rest  .  .  ;  » 
She  heard  all  that  the  good  old  people  said, 

And  like  a  shadow  hope  went  from  her  breast.       i 
She  heard,  but,  sadly  moaning,  shook  her  head, 
'•        And  to  her  throbbing  heart  her  clasped  hands  pressed* 
And  while  the  dead  walls  drank  her  bitter  sighs,  j 

The  streams  of  anguish  rolled  down  from  her  eyes.   •.      *  ^ 


97 

But  I  shall  not  tell  how  she  wept  all  night,          ,.   ,  • 
How  grief  no  respite  found  in  raining  tears,     ,•;. 

How,  in  the  morn,  the  master  passed  in  sight, 

With  surly  looks  that  filled  her  soul  with  fears; 

How  her  old  friends  had  prayed  in  mournful  plight, 
And  whispered  words  of  comfort  in  her  ears; 

Nor  how  the  pickaninnies  hung  about,         •  .          •- 

Their  big  white  eyes  with  wonder  bulging  out.         " 


56  AN  IDYL  OP  THE  SOUTH. 


I  shall  not  say  how  long  and  late  she  heard 

A  fiddle  snoring  an  old  cabin  tune; 
A  banjo's  "plunk,  plunk,  plunk,"  unskilled  and  weird; 

And  thumping  heels  that  shuffled  off  "Zip  Coon;" 
But  night  crept  by  and  tardy  morn  appeared, 

A  brilliant  dawning  in  a  Southern  June. 
And  that  were  better,  for  I  could  not  bear 
To  tell  of  Lena's  grief, — nor  you  to  hear. 


99 

But  day  went  by  and  on  came  sable  ev«, 

With  hints  of  slumber  in  her  tranquil  eyes. 

And  at  her  loom  the  sunset  sat  to  weave 

Gay  edgings  for  the  curtains  of  the  skies.        » 

And  Lena's  heart  almost  forgot  to  grieve, 
As  smiling  Hesperus  was  seen  to  rise 

Through  woody  tops — magnolias  dark  and  pines — 

And  lead  night's  hosts  from  utmost  Heaven's  confines. 


THE  pCTOROON.  .>      57 


100 

) 
But  In  the  shadows  there  was  mystery— 

A  breath  of  mischief,  and  impending  harm; 
A  whisper  and  an  air  of  secrecy; 

A  sense  of  fear  that  hung  about  the  farm; 
A  presence  which  one  felt  but  could  not  see,    • 

That  startled  Lena,— -filled  her  with  alarm; 
Adn  when  she  thought  of  home  so  far  away, 
Her  poor  heart  sank, — she  could  not  even  pray. 


101 

Word  from  the  "great  house"  came — a  master's  call —  ' 

He  wanted  Lena,  and  she  must  obey. 
11  He  wanted  to  talk  with  her, — that  was  all,"    . 

The  old  slave  said,  and  meekly  led  the  way 
Through  wide  grounds,  up  great  steps  and  through  a  hall 

To  where  the  master's  wont  was  most  to  stay 
At  night;  a  room  with  sideboard,  cups  and — well 
You  know  the  rest,  and  so  1  need  not  tell.  '  . 


58  AN  IDYL  OP  THE  SOUTH. 


103  : 

He  filled  a  glass,  held  it  before  his  eyes, 

Then  drank,  and  handed  his  old  slave  a  drink;      ; 
Who  took  the  glass  and  bowed  beseechingly, 

But  durst  not  once  of  a  refusal  think.  i!  />- 

But  Lena  did  refuse,  and  with  a  sigh  .-  ; 

Which  showed  her  near  revolt's  abruptest  brink.  :  .* 
And  when  her  dark  old  friend  had  turned  to  go, 
She,  too,  rose  up.    Then  cried  her  master,  "No." 


103 

"I  have  a  word  with  you,  and  you're  to  wait; 

I  must  acquaint  you  with  your  proper  station. 
At  Colonel  Maury's,  I  right  here  may  state, 

You  had  your  own  way;  but  on  this  plantation 
1  rule,  and  every  nigger  must  walk  straight 

Or  I  will  bring  him  to  the  situation. 
But,  at  the  same  time,  you  need  have  no  fear, 
If  you  will  but  obey  me— do  you  hear?" 


THE  OCTORbON.  x         59 


104 

"/ 
11 1  don't  indulge  my  niggers — never  do; 

V;  I  tell  them  what  to  do,  and  they  must  do  it. 

'  1  feed  them,  clothe  them,  and  I  work  them,  too; 

•    "; 
.I  .         \;  And  if  they  disobey  me,  they  must  rue  it. 

,    But  I  shall  have  no  need  to  chastise  you; 

!  '-  •  • 

Even  to  scold  a  pretty  girl  like  you, 

'Twould  be  a  shame,  much  more  to  have  to  strike  you! 
I'll  tell  you  what,  e'en  now  I  really  like  you." 


105 

"  I  did  n't  buy  you  for  a  common  field  hand; 

1  don't  intend  that  you  work  out  of  doors;  _  ...  • 
But  you're  to  keep  house  for  me — understand? 

Be  in  my  room  here,,  make  my  bed— do  chores, 
And  just  obey  me — be  at  my  command. 

And  anything  you  want,  it  shall  be  yours; 
And  if  you'll  be  good  tempered  you  will  find,       . 
That  Chester  Royall  can  be  all  that's  kind."        • 


60  AN  IDYL  OF  THE  SOUTH. 


106 

"Now,  Maury  is  my  friend;  and  when  he  praised  you, 
I  promised  him  that  I  would  treat  you  right — 

That  is,  woti'd  show  the  care  that's  always  due 
A  girl  who  is  obedient  and  polite. 

He  told  me  that  his  wife  had  strictly  raised  you, 
And  that  you  always  had  been  very  bright; 

And  I  am  glad  that  you  have  had  good  raising; 

For  that,  of  all  things,  most  deserves  our  praising." 


107 

"  A  man  could  love  a  girl  like  you;  in  fact, 
I  wouldn't  hardly  be  ashamed  to  have 

It  said  that  I  like  you."     And  in  the  act 

Of  patting  now  the  fair  cheek  of  his  slave, 

He  moved,  but  she  avoided  him  with  tact 

As  sweetly  proper  as  'twas  truly  brave;  * 

And  faced  him  straight,  when  he,  half  smiling,  said: 

"Tut,  tut,  you  silly  thing;  are  you  afraid?" 


THE  OCTOROON. 


61 


1 08 

She  frowned.     He  was  amazed — he  could  not  speak. 

A  storm  was  brewing  in  his  baffled  mind; 
The  blood-like  liquid  flame  rushed  to  his  cheek, 

And  clouds  of  gathering  wrath  had  made  him  blind. 
He  seized  her  hand  and  pressed,  but  he  was  weak, 

And  in  his  desperation  would  be  kind; 
And  so  he  paused  and  hesitating  stood; 
But,  at  the  bottom,  fury  filled  his  blood. 


109 

But  words  were  lost,  now  aimed  at  Lena's  ear;. 

Her  master  coaxed — she  drew  her  hand  away. 
She  heard  him  talking,  yet  she  did  not  hear; 

Her  soul  was  loathing  all  he  had  to  say. 
The  object  of  his  craven  heart  was  clear; 

And,  though  she  was  his  slave,  she  spurned  him — yea! 
She  turned  upon  her  heel  as  if  to  go; 
But,  with  a  husky  growl,  he  muttered,  "No."    .  • 


62  AN  IDYL  OF  THE  SOUTH. 


no 

Then  Lena  threw  the  shutters  wide  to  look;    V, 

A  moon,  full-orbed,  was  rolling  in  mid-sky.    •  '     •  . 

And  with  its  dulcet  tones  a  pebbly  brook  ;t 

Said  strange,  weird  things  as  it  meandered  by. 

A  dark  magnolia,  near  her  leaning,  shook 

Its  list'ning  head,  and  night  winds  seemed  to  sigh, 

As  if  they  knew  that  someone  was  distressed. 

Then  Lena  felt  an  arm  around  her  pressed. 


in 

She  wheeled,  then  sprang,  and  threw  the  arm  from  her; 

An-1  from  her  splendid  shoulders  tossed  her  hair. 
She  turned. upon  him,  pointing,  spoke  out:  "  Sir, 

Begone  from  me."    Superb  in  her  despair, 
She  stood  so  firmly  that  he  feared  to  stir. 

But  now  she  reeled — she  sank  upon  a  chair —   , 
And  with  her  hands  upon  her  downcast  eyes, 
With  greatest  effort  she  restrained  her  cries. 


THE  OCTOROON. 


112 

"X 

The  "  Major  "  moved  to  lift  her  from  her  seat; 

She  felt  his  touch  that  half  ?.n  appeal  meant;" 
She  threw  his  hands  off,  bounded  to  her  feet, 

»      •  \ 

And  through  the  doorway  like  an  arrow  went. 
Ah!  then  her  master's  wrath  was  at  "white  heat." 

To  her  receding  ears  this  threat  he  sent: 
"  I'll  make  you  know!"  and  followed  where  she  flew, 
Declaring  in  his  rage  what  he  would  do. 


113 

But  on  she  went— on  to  the  cabin  sped.* 

The  aged  inmates  met  her  at  the  door; 
She  brushed  them  by.     "  Good  Lawd!"  the  old  man  said, 

And  followed  her  across  the  creaking  floor 
To  where  she  threw  herself  upon  a  bed; 

When  his  old  spouse  began  to  thus  deplore: 
"  1  knowed  it,  Andy,  I'se  don'  tole  you  so; 
Ole  Massa's  drunk— ef  dat  aint  like  him — shol" 


64  AN  IDYL  OF  THE  SOUTH. 


114 

There  Lena  rested  but  a  breathing  spell; 

Upon  her  closely  came  pursuing  fate; 
Her  master's  footsteps  on  the  threshold  fell,  y;  ;j> 

And  in  his  speech  she  heard  hoarse  anger  grate. 
The  beast  would  seize  his  prey — she  knew  it  well;  , . 

The  instant  was  supreme — she  must  not  wait— 

*.;>  •    » 

She  rose,  she  sprang,  she  faced  him  as  before;  .      . 

Threw  him  aside  and  darted  from  the  door. 


"5 

On,  on  she  ran,— out  in  the  night  alone;  ? 

With  broken  accents  of  a  hasty  prayer; 
A  sob,  a  sigh,  and  then  a  bitter  moan, 

She  uttered  on  the  night's  lamenting  air. 
But  on,  still  on  she  went  through  fields  unknown 

To  her,  through  woods  and  lanes,  not  caring  where. 
To  flee  brought  her  relief,  for  as  she  flew 
The  friendly  darkness  hid  her  form  from  view. 


TIJE  OCTOROON.  65 


116  . 

V 

In  her  distress  there  was  a  constant  flow 

Of  courage  to  the  heart  that  else  would  break. 
The  darkling  objects  round  her  seemed  to  know, 

And  whisper  something  for  a  poor  girl's  sake. 
Beset  with  dangers,  thus  compelled  to  go, 

She  knew  not  where,  she  dared  all  undertake. 
No  forms  of  ill  that  she  might  thenceforth  find, 
Could  ever  equal  those  she  left  behind. 


117 

She  looked  above,  and  upward  soared  her  thought; 

Through  star-sown  fields  to  myriad  gates  of  light* 
She  looked  before,  and  silent  forms  were  wrought 

By  pine  and  hemlock  on  the  walls  of  night. 
Their  very  stillness  was  with  meaning  fraught. 

Mute  witnesses  they  seemed  of  her  sad  plight. 
But  on  she  went,  determined  as  a  tide; 
Nothing  could  daunt  her;  naught  could  turn  aside.* 


66  AN  IDYL  OP  THE  SOUTH. 


118  * 

r   • 

"Here,  Missy!  dis  way,  Missy!  come  along." 
The  speaker  was  old  Andy,  Lena's  friend, 

Who,  like  an  apparition,  there  among  • 

The  shadows  rose.     At  first  fright  served  to  lend 

Wings  to  her  speed;  but,  like  a  thrush's  song, 

The  old  man's  words  did  with  such  coaxing  blendr 

That  Lena's  heart  beat  free — her  fears  were  gone — 

She  grasped  the  offered  hand  and  hurried  on. 


119 

«v 

On,  under  hemlocks  and  magnolias  dark, 

They  turned  their  flight  which  way  a  stream  was  brawl- 
Across  the  fields  they  heard  a  watch-dog's  bark  [ing. 

Betray  their  whispers  on  his  quick  ears  falling.. 
And  so,  they  durst  not  breathe  a  least  remark  ^ 

TiU  where  the  great  trees  rose,  their  vision  walling, 
They  reached  the  stream,  and,  finding  a  canoe, 
Were  quickly  gliding  where  dark  willows  grew. 


THE  OCTOROON.  67 


^    120 

Dark  rolled  the  stream  beneath  great  live-oak  boughs, 
With  mosses  hung  like  some  old  hermit's  hair- 

And  here  and  there  the  dipping  oar  would  rouse 
A  night  bird  up,  to  fierce  the  startled  air 

With  its  strange  cry.     Again  the  shores  would  drowse; 
But  coaxing  words  revealed  the  old  slave's  care 

For  Lena,  while  he  bravely  pulled  the  oar, 

Till  he  had  landed  on  a  chosen  shore. 


121  . 

"  Here  we  must  stop."     He  breathed,  and  opening  wide 
His  patient  eyes  with  satisfaction  clear, 

He  stepped  ashore  with  Lena  at  his  side. 

They  paused, — the  old  man  turned  a  list'ning  ear, 

While  his  dark  features  Lena  closely  eyed. 
There  was  no  sound  of  any  danger  near. 

"He  thinks  I'se  come  to  find  and  bring  you  back!" 

Said  Lena's  guide,  "  but  he's  clean  off  de  track." ' 


68  AN  IDYL  OP  THE  SOUTH. 


•      122 

"  I  seed  you  when  you  flew  on  up  the  lane, 

Jes'  like  er  sperrit,  and  1  kept  in  sight,  ,-. 

And  so  I  said:  '  Ole  Massa'll  not  obtain 

Ter  seein'  dat  poah  gal  agin  to-night.'  "      * ; 
But  here  the  old  man  turned  his  face  again; 

And,  grasping  Lena's  hand,  pursued  his  flight; 

Till  in  the  shadow  of  a  mighty  wood,  ... 

• 
Beneath  a  monarch  tree  they  listening  stood,  v 


123 

But  they  must  part.    Beneath  the  monarch  tree, 
With  mosses  hanging  like  a  hermit's  hair, 

They  listened  till  the  old  slave  said:  "  Now  we 
Must  separate.     1  leave  you  in  God's  care." 

And  as  the  meek-faced  dawn  one  now  could  see 
Peep  from  the  curtained  east,  to  full  and  fair 

Soon  open  into  day,  you  might  have  spied 

The  old  slave  bowed,  and  Lena  at  his  side. 


THE  OCTOROON.       ,  69 


v'24 

And  as  they  parted,  in  that  dark  old  face, 

'  Which  had  been  thus  upturned  to  Heaven  in  prayer, 
There  shone  a  light  of  satisfying  grace, 

That  softened  every, furrow  made  by  care. 
But,  day  was  breaking,— he  must  leave  the  place; 

And  Lena  thence  alone  her  way  must  fare. 
"  God  bress  de  chile!" — the  parting  words  were  said: 
The  one  turned  back,  the  other  onward  sped. 


125 

And  as  old  Andy  went,  could  you  have  seen 

Him  homeward  through  the  woods  at  sunrise  going, 

You  must  have  felt  that  angels, — which  have  been, 
According  to  the  scriptures,  busy  doing 

Errands  of  mercy,  Heav'n  and  earth  between, 
And  schemes  of  evil-doers  overthrowing, 

Have  not  all  quit,  are  not  all  of  them  white — 

Triumphant  goodness  winged  the  old  man's  flight/ 


70  AN  IDYL  OP  THE  SOUTH. 


126 

And  looking  up  devoutly  as  he  wort — 

(So  the  Apostles  gazed  from  Judah's  hill, 

Whence  their  Redeemer  had  made  His  ascent 

To  Heaven) — he  prayed:  "  De  Lawd  be  with  her  still! 

To  him  it  all  divine  occurrence  meant. 

And  so,  with  secret  joy,  he  ran  on,  till 

He  reached  his  cabin  and  his  master  met, 

Who  shouted:  "Andy,  have  n't  you  found  her  yet  ?" 


127 

The  old  man  grinned  and  bowed  low  with  a  groan, 
Which  told  the  fruitlessness  of  his  pursuit 

And  his  deep  chagrin  in  a  single  tone —  , 

Which  meant:  "My  greatest  efforts  bore  no  fruit!"  ; 

He  said:  "  I  dunno  whar  she  iz.     Pse  done!" 

And  then  he  shook  his  head  and  stood  as  mute 

As  death  and  looked  to  see  his  master  rave. 

Ah!  Who  could  read  the  thoughts  of  that  old  slave? 


THE  OCTOROON. 


Much  I  could  here  relate  of  what  took  place, 

Of  how  dark  clouds  hung  o'er  the  situation; 

How  "  Major  "  Roy  all  flew  into  the  face 
Of  everybody  on  his  big  plantation; 

Of  how  he  "  cursed  and  swore  "  that  he  "  would  chase 
That  '  Lady  '  to  the  end  of  all  creation." 

But  we  must  hasten  onward,  while  we  may, 

And  overtake  the  blue-eyed  runaway. 


129 

She  waited  not;  her  only  hope  was  plain— 
A  speedy  flight.    So  she  was  quickly  gone 

Through  forests  dark — left  all  roads,  in  the  main— 
O'er  shrub-crowned  hills,  and  through  the  gorges  lone. 

She  knew  not  where,  but  held  her  heart  of  pain, 
And  went,  though  not  a  ray  of  promise  shone* 

But  fleeing  was  relief,  and  as  she  went 

O'er  her  the  roughest  trees  in  mercy  bent, 


72  AN  IDYL  OP  THE  SOUTH. 


130  • 

Earth  hath  one  spot  on  which  none  may  intrude,     '  ; 

And  not  invite  the  certain  frowns  of  Heaven; 
There  loving  hearts  with  light  divine  imbued, 

Clasp  erring  ones,  and  there  are  sins  forgiven. 
That  spot  is  home,  however  poor  and  rude — 

The  holiest  shrine  at  which  one  may  be  shriven-^— 
And  Lena  came  upon  this  sacred  spot, 
Where  Maury  erst  found  shelter  in  a  cot. 


131  .. 

She  entered,  sore  and  wan — she  could  not  speak. 

The  housewife  took  her  hand  and  said:  "  How  do?" 
Long  hours  of  ceaseless  flight  had  made  her  weak; 

And  in  her  eyes  the  mists  now  dimmed  the  bide. 
She  sadly  smiled,  she  bowed  divinely  meek; 

And  followed  where  her  hostess  tiptoed  through 
An  inner  doorway  till  she  reached  a  bed, 
Where  Lena  sank  to  rest  her  drooping  head. 


THE  OCTOROON.       *  73 

\  , 


The  woman  knelt;  her  features  were  divine;     *  ; 

Clasped  Lena's  hands,  though  not  a  word  she  spoke. 
Her  kind  eyes  welcomed  every  feeble  sign 

Of  strength  that  In  the  poor  girl's  cheeks  awoke. 
She  looked  on  Lena  with  a  face  benign; 

Caressed  her  pale  brow  with  a  tender  stroke,      * 
And  softly  whispered  words  of  cheer,  as  she — 
Lena— sank  back  and  gasped:  "  Til  soon  be  free!'1         .  < 


133 

The  cotters  of  the  mountain  hurried  in — 

All  gazed,  but  no  one  knew  the  stranger's  face; 

Good  women  whispered  how  they  saw  that  sin 
Had  in  her  pretty  features  made  no  trace. 

Her  eyes  still  showed  how  trustful  they  had  been, 
And  in  her  cheek  still  blushed  a  rose  of  grace. 

So  words  of  comfort  each  one  gently  gave. 

While  bending  kindly  o'er  the  virgin  slave.      '   ' 


74  AN  IDYL  OF  THE  SOUTH. 


134 

There  at  her  feet  an  old  man  kneeling  prayed, 

Till  resignation  lit  her  restful  eyes, 
As  sunlight  fills  a  still  lake  in  the  shade 

That  on  the  surface  softly  trembling  lies, 
Then  settles  till  the  depths  are  peaceful  made. 

Her  cheeks  were  pale,  but  as  when  daylight  dies 
Out  in  the  sky,  it  leaves  a  lingering  glow, 
So  in  her  cheeks  the  dying  flame  was  slow. 


135  ^ 

But  now  the  stillness  of  this  touching  scene 
Was  broken  by  the  sounds  of  flying  feet. 

Young  Maury  had  arrived,  who  late  had  been  / 

Urging  his  foam-flecked  steed  through  dust  and' heat; 

O'er  barren  hills  and  through  the  valleys  green; 
Till  here  directed  to  this  wild  retreat, 

Where  he  at  night  had  once  been  tempest  bound, 

The  tender  object  of  his  search  he  found. 


HE  OCTOROON.  75 


I36 
>• 

He  knew  the  wife,  who  quickly  did  admit: 

Then  Lena's  soul,  that  had  already  heard 
vi  -  The  summons  that  would  bid  her  spirit  flit, 

,;:      *,  ;  The  moment  of  departure  now  deferred;      .v. 

And  while  a  glow  of  recognition  lit 
'.  Her  sad  blue  eyes,  she  rose,  she  gasped  a  word; 

.     And  as  young  Maury  hastened  to  her  side, 
She  clasped  his  hand,  then  sank  back  satisfied. 


137 

Triumphant  Resignation  on  her  brow  - 

Still  sat  enthroned,  and  made  Death's  harvest  mown 
A  golden  joy.     To  those  who  watched  her  now 

The  Reaper's  pathway  was  with  flowers  strown. 
The  golden  grain  indeed  was  lying  low, 

But  in  the  stubble  precious  blooms  had  grown; 
So  there  we  leave  young  Maury  with  his  dead; 
Nor  ask  we  further,  what  was  done  or  said. 


76  AN  IDYL  OF  THE  SOUTH. 


'33 

Here  ends  the  act.    We  let  the  curtain  fall; 

Tread  softly  now  where  sleeps  the  blue-eyed  maid. 
We've  seen  the  play,  and  running  through  it  afl, 

The  thread  of  pathos  which  it  must  be  said     •.  .' 

Is  true  to  life.     This  earth  was  far  too  small 

« 

For  such  a  soul.    But  Maury,  having  made 
Arrangements  horn?  her  body  to  convey, 
With  grief  too  deep  for  tears  bore  her  away. 


139 

The  day  of  reckoning  came.    With  bearing  fine 

O'er  Lena's  corpse  stood  Sheldon,  now  of  age, 
And  to  his  father  said:  "Give  me  what's  mine, 

.-* 

And  I'll  get  out,  and  for  myself  engage 
In  business;  but  Til  never  beg  nor  whine, 

If  I  go  empty  handed.     At  no  stage 
In  Life's  uncertain  game  will  I  return; 
1  ask  of  Fortune  naught  but  what  I  earn!" 


THE  OCTOROON.  77 


V 
"  To  Lena  I've  been  partial.    I  have  been          ;  • 

No  master  merely,  but  I've  been  her  friend. 
'God  is  my  judge,  I've  known  her  not  in  sin, 

And  I'm  proud  of>ier;  proud  that  to  the  end 
I've  dared  to  stand,  with  all  the  power  within 

My  heart  and  arm,  her  honor  to  defend. 
For  her,  my  faithful  playmate,  pretty  slave, 
My  love  and  friendship  shall  survive  the  grave!" 


141 

"  In  childhood  once  I  saw  a  mouser  spring 

Upon  a  poor  canary  in  its  cage. 
I  heard  its  tiny  plea,  saw  desperate  wing 

Resist  in  vain  the  monster's  cruel  rage; 
And  I  were  guilty  of  a  meaner  thing, 

Had  harm  befallen  Lena's  tender  age— 
And  she  my  slave,  I  should,  to  say  the  least, 
Now  own  myself  a  wretch — a  human  beast!" 


78  .       AN  IDYL  OP  THE  SOUTH. 


142      • 

m 

His  father  answered:  "  Son,  you  are  a  Maury; 

We've  suffered  no  dishonor  at  your  hands.  ; 

1  have  not  understood  you,  and  I'm  sorry; 

Hence,  I  shall  not  now  yield  to  your  demands. 
You're  brave  and  true,  now  don't  be  in  a  hurry; 

For  there  are  other  days,  and  he  who  stands 
At  parting  of  the  ways,  should  calmly  wait 
Till  Wisdom  makes  the  path  of  duty  straight  " 


143 

"  Before  his  eyes;  and  then  he  should  proceed 
With  careful  steps,  reflecting  as  he  goes, 

Should  coolly  keep  his  judgment  in  the  lead; 

For  streams  fret  most  where  rocks  and  shoals  oppose, 

And  headstrong  currents  into  danger  speed.  -  ; 

No  man  is  safe  until  he  fully  knows 

That  anger  is  an  outlaw,  and  must  be  '  •-.' 

Held  in  strong  chains  and  bars  perpetually." 


THE  OCTOROON.  79 


x, . 

"Fortune,  superior  talents,  circumstance,  . 

Are  all  mere  drift,  upon  a  dizzy  tide,          V 
'That  whirl  and  bob  in  an  unmeaning  dance, 

Yea,  valor,  breeding,  and  lineal  pride, 
Are  all  mere  puppets,  strung  by  aimless  chance, 
V  •      ,     Unless  man's  sober  judgment  be  his  guide. 
So  here  upon  the  strange  mysterious  brink 
Which  men  call  Death,  my  son,  let's  pause  and  think." 


The  mother  smiled  and  gravely  shook  her  head. 

She  knew  her  splendid  boy — she  knew  his  will.   . 
And  then  with  woman,  love  is  never  dead: 

Love's  treasured  flowers  survive  the  frosts  which  kill, 
The  past,  to  her,  lies  like  a  landscape  spread, 

Whose  mellowed  light  beams  but  more  charming  still. 
And  though  the  years  may  change  the  gold  to  gray,  . 
Still  woman's  heart's  as  young  and  warm  as  May.     . 


80  AN  IDYL  OF  THE  SOUTH. 


I46 

And  on  that  day  no  funeral  bell  was  ringing, 

But  sloping  in  the  sun,  you  saw  the  hills, 
And  pansied  meadows  where  the  larks  were  singing 

Such  medleys,  heart-bursts,  and  such  glorious  trills- 
It  seemed  that  they  from  some  high  clime  were  bringing 

New  renderings  of  the  theme  of  joy  which  thrills 
All  Nature,  when  the  cortege  slowly  wound 
Across  the  old  farm  to  the  burying  ground. 


147 

The  sinking  sun  across  the  western  gap,  » 

Had  tarried  to  put  up  his  golden  bars;   • 

And  darkness  took  the  valley  on  her  lap,  ;  . 

And  waited  for  the  coming  of  the  stars.          "  '  ^ 

And  mountain  heights  had  now  begun  to  wrap 

Themselves  in  that  repose  which  nothing  mars; 

That  sense  of  resignation,  which  implies 

A  faith  that  finds  foundation  in  the  skies. 


ITHE  OCTOROON. 


81 


148 

**. 

j . 

No  useless  drapings  of  a  funeral 

Like  shadows  hung  round  Lena's  resting  place; 
•  There  was  no  mourning— no  loud  grief,  nor  pall- 
But  tender  glories  of  day's  ending  race, 

Did  o'er  earth  like  celestial  curtains  fall; 

And  Heav'n  was  lovely  as  a  maiden's  face; 

While  humble  negroes  sang  a  low  refrain — 

A  burst  of  hope,  with  undertones  of  pain. 


149 

No  priest  was  there  to  formal  prayers  recite; 

To  intonate  his  creeds  with  measured  breath; 
Nor  aim  with  outreach  of  an  earthly  rite, 

To  put  ajar  the  baffling  gates  of  death 
And  grasp  the  mysteries  of  the  Infinite; 

But  Faith,  there  whispered  the  sweet  shibboleth 
"At  Rest,"  while  Love  clasped  Hope  and  looked  before, 
To  joy-crowned  summits  of  the  evermore.       '   •  .' 


82  AN  IDYL  OF  THE  SOUTH. 


150 

What  if  there  be  no  dim  cathedral's  aisle? 

What  :f  no  deep-toned  organ  e'er  be  heard? 
The  soul  can  see  its  God  in  Nature  smile, 

And  praise  is  loudest  when  we  speak  no  word. 
What  if  no  sounding  dome  surmount  the  pile, 

Which  wealth  to  mock  the  humble  poor  hath  reared? 
Hope  still  sees  temples  in  the  golden  mist, 
With  gates  of  light  and  spires  of  amethyst. 


151 

Yea,  "  nor  shall  altars  reared  of  wood  and  stone 
Appear,"  said  Jesus,  "only  on  yon  height;" 

"  Nor  shall  there  to  Jerusalem  alone 

/ 

Go  worshipers;  but  such  as  in  the  light         ; :»  "         " 
Of  truth  and  spirit,  seek  God,  shall  he  own." 

God  sees  man's  heart,  nor  heeds  his  formal  rite. 
When  day  upon  the  flaming  hills  expires, 
What  need  hath  earth  for  man's  poor  altar  fires! 


THE  OCTOROON.  83 


152 

""i  . 
My  temple  is  the  sky — my  High-Priest  God; 

"  My  hope  and  my  salvation  the  Most  High,1 
-  Whose  altar  is  the  sun  and  whose  ephod 

Is  infinite  Night's  stellar  harmony! 
With  Him,  mind  walks  till  now,  as  Enoch  trod. 

And  still  He  talks  in  smoking  Mount  Sinai. 
Yea,  in  the  everlasting  rocks  we  read 
His  law  still  written — His  eternal  creed. 


153 

Mind  knows  no  death.     Life  is  the  "first  and  last." 
The  falling  leaf  leaves  its  source  living  still; 

The  flower  which  withers  in  the  autumn  blast 

Dies  not,  but  thus  escapes  the  winter's  chill,    • 

And  will  return,  through  changes  strange  and  vast, 
When  summoned  forth  to  range  o'er  vale  and  hill. 

Shall  mind  which  thus  perceives  Life's  changes  die? 

Hath  only  matter  immortality?  .  • 


84  AN  IDYL  OF  THE  SOUTH. 


154 

Mind  knows  no  death  beyond  a  prolonged  sleep,— 
Suspended  action — rest  by  Heaven  designed, 

The  grave,  the  rest  for  all  who  toil  and  weep, 
Could  ne'er  have  been  intended  for  the  mind. 

Then  who  shall  dread  to  cross  the  rayless  deep, 
And  reach  the  vast  unknown,  with  joy  to  find 

Existences  here  dimly  understood — 

Too  fine  to  be  perceived  by  "flesh  and  blood?" 


155 

And  "  if  one  sleep,  he  doeth  well,"  'twas  said; 

Yea,  for  unreckoned  will  the  ages  be 
That  swing  their  long  flight  o'er  the  sleeper's  head; 

A  day — a  thousand  years— eternity,  .»..?      : 

The  same — no  thought  of  time  can  e'er  disturb  the  dead; 

And  when  one  shall  have  waked,  new  worlds  to  see, 
He  will  have  found,  with  joy  and  sweet  relief, 
That  time  unreckoned  makes  the  cycles  brief. 


THE  OCTOROON.  85 


But,  "  if  a  man  die,  shall  he  live  again?" 

This  baffling  question  comes  from  long  ago.    * 

Shall  ashes  only  of  Life's  torch  remain? 

The  mind  cries  o\Jt,  and  Nature  answers,  "  No!" 

Ye  who  have  heard  the  prophesying  rain, 
/    And  seen  the  flowery  Resurrection  glow:  - 

Ye  know  of  better  things  than  eye  hath  seen; 

Ye  know  sere  Earth  is  Mother  of  the  green. 


157 

The  wild  moose  shivers  in  the  north  land's  breath. 

Where  Huron's  wave  upbraids  the  fretful  shore; 
The  marsh  fowl  far  to  southward  wandereth 

And  calls  her  tribes  to  milder  climes  explore; 
All  Nature  seems  to  sigh:  "  Remember  death, 

For  all  the  living  soon  shall  be  no  more."" 
But  mark  how  Faith  sweeps  on  with  tireless  wing, 
To  find  for  e'en  the  fowl  an  endless  spring. 


86  AN  IDYL  OP  THE  SOUTH. 


I58 

Oh!  Now  my  soul  hath  found  the  mystic  strand, 

Where  life  and  death  meet  like  the  shore  and  sea; 

The  ebb  and  flow — the  ever-shifting  sand, 

Are  doubts  and  fears  which  oft  encompass  me; 

But  if  I  pause  and  let  Faith  take  my  hand, 
Peace  fills  the  darkest  waves  of  mystery; 

And  I  can  hear  it  in  the  fathoms  said: 

"  Lo!  I  am  with  thee!     Be  thou  not  afraid." 


159  . 

Let  scoffers  mock,  let  unbelief  deny — 

Agnosticism  stolidly  ignore;  : 

Let  worldly  wisdom  proudly  ask  us,  "Why?"         > 

And  still  the  soul  cries  out  for  something  more! — 
For  something  better  than  philosophy — 

Still  longs  for  higher  joys  and  looks  before; 
And  cannot  rest — will  ne'er  contented  be, 
Till  triumph  over  matter  leaves  mind  free. 


THE  OCTOROON.  87 


160 

Then  hail  we  all  the  spirits  of  the  just, 

With  Lena  we  shall  join  them  all.    The  mind 

Now  risen  looks  down  on  Life's  unmeaning  dust, 
And  soars  to  higher  spheres — all  unconfined; 

To  spheres  of  love  and  >duty,  hope  and  trust; 
And  leaves  the  sordid  and  corrupt  behind. 

The  Virgin  is  the  sign  of  vanquished  night, 

Her  child  is  born — born  of  the  soul — the  Light. 


161 

Farewell!    In  grandeur  sinks  the  closing  day, 
And  on  our  vision  slowly  fades  the  light; 

And  bygone  scenes,  like  shadows  fall  away, 
To  settle  in  the  blank  of  coming  night. 

The  Octoroon  has  passed,  but  not  for  aye; 

To  those  who  have  the  gift  of  inner  sight, 
.  The  spirit  of  all  nature  prophesies 

A  home  for  love  and  beauty  in  the  skies. 


X 

v  PART  II. 

c        ,..»•• 

x 

THE  SOUTHLAND'S  CHARMS 

AND 

FREEDOM'S  MAGNITUDE 


PART  II. 

X    •'•:••'..'"  


THE  SOUTHLAND'S  CHARMS 

-;     AND  FREEDOM'S  MAGNITUDE 


STANZA  I. 

Far  in  a  vale  among  the  mountains  blue, 

Close  by  a  stream  where  roving  cattle  stray, 

Where  grand  old  sylvans  darkly  crowd  the  view, 
And  towering  summits  brush  the  clouds  away; 

Down  where  the  waters,  wildly  rushing  through      . 
The  rocks,  enchant  the  scene  with  song  and  spray. 

There  round  my  childhood  home,  a  cabin  rude,        f 

Wild  Nature  taught  me  Freedom's  magnitude. 


90  THE    SOUTHLAND'S   CHARMS 


There  I  have  stood  upon  the  precipice 

That  hovered  awful  space,  and  heard  the  leap 
Of  waters  downward  with  a  fearful  hiss, 

To  thence  rush  onward  in  their  angry  Sweep, 
Like  fiends  contending  in  the  fierce  abyss; 

And  musing  there  in  meditation  deep, 
1  learned  to  reverence  the  Almighty  Force, 
Which  rends  the  hills  and  shapes  the  water-course. 


c  ...  • 

...     3 

And  there  I've  mused  among  the  wood-haunts  deep.. 

When  Silence  told  her  secrets  in  my  ear; 
When  Echo  startled  from  her  midday  sleep, 

Would  flee  and  mock,  and  flee  and — disappear. 
I've  heard  the  harp-strings  of  the  wild  breeze  give 

Such  music  sweet  as  only  poets  hear; 
While  floods  of  bird-song  filled  the  vibrant  boughs 
With  meanings  which  no  vulgar  soul  allows. 


AND  FREEDOM'S  MAGNITUDE.  91 


4 

Here  I  have  heard  the  all-consoling  speech 
Of  mystery  which  fills  the  solitudes, 
When  leaves  with  velvet  pleadings  do  beseech 
The  pensive  winds  to  linger  in  the  woods; 
-   And  here  I've  found  the  depths  beyond  my  reach — 

,    The  depths  of  feeling  o'er  which  Silence  broods— 
And  out  upon  which,  as  upon  a  sea, 
The  Soul  would  venture  to  meet  Deity. 


5 

Dear  land  of  many  a  classic  wood  and  stream,  N   - 

The  proud  birthright  of  ancient  families, 

With  mountains  whose  blue  robes  have  been  my  dream, 
In  glorious  compass  ranged  'neath  charming  skies; 

Thou  art  a  fit  retreat,  I  fondly  deem, 

For  those  romantic  loves  which  brave  men  prize, 

Which  clothed  a  wigwam  with  historic  grace, 

And  charmed  the  cabins  of  an  injured  race. 


92  THE   SOUTHLAND'S   CHARMS 


Hail,  Native  land!  first-born  of  Freedom,  hail!    .      .,.  4 
./.  Maintain  the  foremost  rank  of  pow'r  and  pride! 

•  '*  v  * 

Thy  far-ranged  mountains  rich  with  wooded  vale, 
And  classic  waters  rolled  in  crystal  tide, 

Adjure  thee  loftily  now  to  prevail. 

Oh!  Let  thy  sons  in  New  World  light  decide     ;. 

To  plant  for  aye  on  Freedom's  glorious  heights 

•     '     '  :  tli'llfil     J  ',}(  t 

The  standard  of  triumphant  equal  rights.      t  /  .'..  T 


'      7 

Here  Meditation  found  a  leafy  shrine,  .      ,    .  ,,('. ,^  ,  ;' 
And  one  could  hear  the  thoughts  of  Diety 

Breathed  on  the  winds ;   here  oracles  divine 
Unrolled  the  secrets  of  green  mystery. 

And  as  the  waters  of  a  fair  lake  shine 

Beneath  the  sun,  rippling  delightfully; 

So  floods  of  thought  here  waved  before  the  soul, 

In  visions  bright,  to  ripple,  dance,  and  roll. ' 


y        ^    • 


'FREEDOM'S AfeNITUDiB.  -93 


8' 

Here  Beauty  spread  her  rich  and  varied  store       rj  ''     <l! 

Of  woods  which,  blent  with  strength  of  hills  sublime, 
^         Have  made  the  virgin  forests  to  explore, 

The  lasting  charm  of  every  age  and  clime. 
'Twas  no  wild  scene  where  aimless  chance  reigned  o'er 

The  dateless  lapses  of  unreckoned  Time ; 
But  human  skill  had  lent  enough  of  aid 
To  vie  with  Nature's  crowning  art  displayed. 


9 

A  road  beyond,  and  modest  gateway  led 

Through  wildering  vistas  to  a  dark  recess. 

Where  interlaced  with  light  the  boughs  o'er  head 

v ,      Like  curtains  hung,  in  wastes  of  loveliness. 

And  still  beyond  the  farther  landscape  spread 
Us  ample  fields  in  rich  and  varied  dress. 

Golden  and  green,  in  waving  harmonies; 

Wooing  and  wooed  by  Dixie's  charming  skies. 


\ 


94  THE  SOUTHLAND'S  CHARMS 


Oh,  direful  day  that  saw  Rebellion's  guns 

On  valiant  Sumter  opening  fT©m  the  land  ; 

That  saw  white-handed  Chivalry's  proud  sons 

Their  country's  standard  trail  with  impious  hand  ; 

Saw  erring  Carolina's  ablest  ones 

Invoke  red  war  on  their  palmetto  strand ; 

And,  in  their  frenzy,  send  the  challenge  forth 

That  roused  the  legions  of  the  loyal  North. 

'.  c  -  -' '':, 

\j 

II 

The  stars  and  stripes  that  in  our  standard  fly, 
Immortal  symbols  of  the  nation's  might,     -^ 

The  splendor  of  night's  orb-emblazoned  sky, 
The  blue  of  day's  eternal  depths — the  white 

Of  Heaven's  peace  and  spotless  purity, 

And  red  of  morn's  defiance-streaming  light, 

Meant  nothing  which  that  madcap  State  would  heed, 

Which  vowed  to  spread  vile  slavery  or  secede. 


AND  FREEDOM'S  MAGNITUDE. 


95 


12 

Time  shall  set  right  the  wrongs  which  man  has  done, 
And  Justice  in  unerring  judgment  reign; 

Though  world-wrecks  pile  round  an  extinguished  sun;" 
And  star-dust  swirl  in  ruin's  lurid  train! 

The  sins  of  man  unchastened  shall  not  run, 

Despite  the  earth's  best  valor,  wealth,  and  brain; 

Behold,  God's  angel  came  in  war's  dread  form, 

With  all  the  fury  of  a  tropic  storm! 


13 

I  stood  where  the  contending  armies  bled — 
A  hundred  thousand  men  on  either  side. 
The  past  returned.     Around  me  rose  the  dead, 
^        The  brazen  bugles  rang  out  far  and  wide ;   " ..  - 
The  clouds  of  thund'rous  battle  round  me  spread 

O'er  lurid  fields,  where  mighty  chiefs  did  ride. 
And  ranks  of  serried  steel  swung  into  sight, 
Flashing  afar — an  army  in  its  might. 


J  96  THE  SOUTHLAND'S  CHARMS 


14 

And  there  was  silence  in  the  pulsing  air,    •      •'  *';•;,: 
While  in  the  noon  sun  fluttered  banners  gay — 

A  lull  that  breathed  the  courage  of  despair;      ,   : 
A  hush  which  meant  a  pause  in  which  to  pray^ 

There  youths  whose  lives  had  never  known  a  care 
Confronted  veterans  with  locks  of  aged  gray; 

Before  the  cool  glare  of  the  veteran, 

The  blue-eyed  youth  stood  dauntless,  man  to  man. 


O'er  green  fields,  each  upon  his  chosen  steed, 

The  grouped  commanders  watched  the  lines  swing  by — 

But  those  grim  heroes  had  no  thought  to  heed 
The  landscape's  beauty  waving  on  the  eye. 

'V   '    ':  •."'.' 

Ah,  loveliness  availeth  naught  indeed,  t- 

When  Saxon  valor  hears  the  battle-cry! 
And  mountains  rising  in  cerulean  skies, 
Can  then  no  more  avert  the  warrior's  eyes. 


AND  FREEDOM'S  MAGNITUDE.        '  97 


1 6 

With  sunny  spirit  and  with  knightly  dash,    '  *i.  ."  &  *&  &-.f 

The  brave  young  legions  rode  up  from  the  South,'' 
And  loyal  hosts  as  brave,  if  not  so  rash,  ;   :  :»::*s  »!»/)  A 

Stood  to  receive  them  at  the  cannon's  mouth.       / 
c 
All  nerves  were  steeled  to  wait  the  thunder-crash      /;y:-*£»T 

Of  opening  battle.     Sire  and  beardless  youth, ;:  :  O 
Earth's  ties  forgetting,  raised  the  battle's  yell        -;.';  -r.»\& 
And  charged  right  through  the  storm  of  shot  and  shell. -J  a: IT 


17 

Wide  o'er  the  field  as  far  as  eye  could  see,  '  bis  •;  r  V*  .•/',  > 
The  waves  of  angry  steel  came  surging  on.  •  -  >':T 

Ten  thousand  chosen  sons  of  chivalry,  •'•  T,  •-,  •_•?:;-  •t& 
Late  bivouaced  at  the  tomb  of  Washington,  -:  v.;!T 

But  now  sent  forward  by  the  high-souled  Lee,-  r: ;  *."  ;  ,;'/-. 
And  led  by  Pickett,  Valor's  proudest  son,  x  r:  V. 

Came  sweeping  in  a  hurricane  of  flame  ''.*;M»  .;  i./iA 

Death-girdled,  up  the  glorious  heights  of  fame!    ;.     -  ,  •;:./•) 


98  THE    SOUTHLAND'S   CHARMS 


Ah,  what  a  splendid  show  of  vaksr  there! 

Lee's  fearless  cordons  in  the  vale  of  death, 
With  Pickett  mute  and  glorious  in  despair. 

Unflinching  in  the  battle's  with'ring  breath. 
All  hail  to  Pickett,  gentle,  brave  and  fair; 

No  prouder  sword  than  his  e'er  leapt  from  sheath. 
And  who  would  not  uncovered  bow  the  head, 
Where  fell  the  young  and  gallant  Armistead? 


'9 

• 

Oh,  when  shall  History's  muse  e'er  fitly  write 
The  charge  of  Pickett's  ragged  legions  grand, 

That  faced  the  guns  of  Cemetery  height? 

What  muse  shall  ever,  with  inspired  hand, 

Sing  how  the  great  North,  in  her  loyal  might, 
Hurled  back  invading  Slavery  from  her  land; 

And  from  her  freedom-tented  summits  saw 

Secession's  broken  strength  reel  backward  and  withdraw? 


AND  FREEDOM'S  MAGNITUDE.  99 


20 

Tis  Lee's  retreat;  all  hail  his  columns  brave. 

With  colors  full  and  fair  they  march  abreast;     - . 
Rolled  back  like  a  tremendous  ocean  wave, 

Their  strength  unbroken,  though  so  sore  distressed. 
Oh;  are  not  soldiers  who  can  thus  behave, 

Well  worthy  of  a  more  sublime  behest?  ' 
Proud  in  defeat,  superb  in  battle  line; 
Base  though  their  cause  their  valor  is  divine! 


21 

Hail!  Fair-souled  Lee,  the  last  and  mightiest 

Of  Southland  sons  to  reach  Fame's  zenith  height; 

He  sheds  a  crowning  glory  on  the  rest 

Who  with  him  faced  the  great  North  in  her  might. 

The  stainless  Bayard  of  the  South,  the  best, 
The  first  and  brilliantest  of  all  the  bright 

Enduring  stars  that  did  the  North's  hosts  meet, 

He  shone  with  purest  lustre  in  defeat. 


100  THE   SOUTHLAND'S  CHARMS 


22 

And  when  he  to  the  man  of  gentle  heart — 

The  one  Field  Marshal  of  the  Western  world, 

His  opposite,  and  yet  his  counterpart, 

Illustrious  Grant,  whose  standard  ne'er  was  furled 

In  known  defeat,  who  "  moved  on"  from  the  start 
And  hurled  his  legions  as  a  Caesar  hurled — 

When  Lee  surrendered  to  his  Northern  peer, 

War's  fortunes  rounded  a  complete  career. 


23 

One  Grant — and  there  can  be  no  more  ;  one  Lee, 
And  war's  exhausted  glories  have  an  end  ; 

One  people,  white  and  black,  thenceforward  free  ; 
One  glorious  flag  for  heroes  to  defend ; 

And  one  proud  task  ours  thence  shall  ever  be  : 
To  trace  the  path  for  all  lands  in  the  trend 

Of  New  World  progress,  and  to  thence  make  way 

For  Freedom  throughout  all  the  world  for  aye! 


i 


V  AND /FREEDOM'S;  MAGNITUDE.  .101 


hall  we  all.    The  men  who  followed  Lee    .'  f; ,, 

Were  brave,  but  best  of  all— -AMERICAN. .....  , 

So,  let  them  heirs  of  glory  ever  be,    ;  ;         ...  .••;:,..- 

With  those  who  followed  Grant  and  Sheridan.. 
And  that  the  sable  bondman  now  is  free,         .  .    ,. , 

And  battle-tried;  hail  him,  too,  fellow  man.      ! 
No  gentler  nature  ever  warmed  a  breast;  -   ;    j 

And  he  in  valor's  equal  to  the  best. 


25 

Let  stars  of  rank  for  all  our  heroes  shine;          .  - 
A  valiant  land  should  hail  them  all  with  pride. 

Where  deeds  of  valor  thrilled  the  shell-raked  line,  . 
The  Negro  stood  with  Saxon  side  by  side, 

And  face  to  face,     Yea,  where  it  was  divine 

To  die  for  country,  there  the  Negro  died.        -."• ' 

So  let  there  be  an  end  forever  hence  ,  // 

To  that  race-hate  which  sickens  common  sense.    :. . 


102  THE  SOUTHLAND'S  CHARMS 


26  . 

The  war  is  ended;  like  receding  waves,        - 
Its  force  subsiding  leaves  a  peaceful  shore. 

Hushed  is  the  singing  of  the  mournful  slaves; 
And  In  our  sunny  walks  we  meet  no  more 

These  patient  sufferers — sights  which  no  one  craves. 
And  now,  hope-beaming  Hesperus  leads  o'er 

A  wide  horizon  our  new  world-emprise,  :   ;  ' 

With  still  new  regions  opening  on  our  eyes. 


27 

Roll  on!    Historic  James,  thy  classic  song 

Shall  ever  thrill  the  proud  hearts  of  the  free; 

For,  'mid  the  virgin  woods  thy  shores  along, 
Our  patriot-sires  first  heard  the  lullaby 

Of  Freedom,  and  from  Henry's  fiery  tongue 

First  caught  the  watch-cry:  "  Give  me  liberty, 

Or  give  me  death!" — when  startled  Europe  heard  * 

That  forest  Tribune  challenge  George  the  Third. 


AND  FREEDOM'S  MAGNITUDE.  103 


28 

i.      Roll!    Shenandoah,  thine  eternal  song 

Roll  onward  to  the  ali-forgetting  sea, 
y          •:•:;•    And  bear  away  the  Southland's  darkest  wrong. 

Oh,  storied  stream,  may  it  forever  be 
v  That  Plenty's  hosts  in  peace  thy  shores  shall  throng, 

And  celebrate  the  triumphs  of  the  free; 
While  Grant  and  Lee,  illustrious  peers,  stand  forth 
;:-',      Exemplar-Saxons  of  the  South  and  North. 


29 

Thy  wont  is  on  the  foremost  front  to  lead, 

•   On  the  audacious  verge  thy  wont  to  stay; 
My  native  land! — The  voice  of  Progress  heed  I 

Arise!  and  call  thy  sons  to  lead  the  way. 
Thy  sister  nations  have  in  might  decreed 

To  forge  ahead  and  leave  thee  if  they  may; 
But  thy  past  glories  are  a  heritage, 
Commanding  that  thou  still  must  lead  thy  age. 


104  THE  SOUTHLANDS,  CHARMS 


30 

Oh!  how  I've  loved  our  old  South  solitudes!    i:  .,Vrjj 
Where  classic  waters  mused  in  listless  rhyme, 

And  warbling  gladness  filled  the  stately  woods! 
But  now  I  long  to  see  this  matchless  clime 

Adjust  its  life  to  the  vicissitudes 

Of  sane  endeavor; — long  to  see  the  time 

When  we  shall  learn  that  toil  excels  our  dreams, 

That  mills  make  better  music  than  the  streams! 


31 

Two  Saxon  worlds  clasp  hands — the  Old  and  New; 

And  now  their  coming  great  alliance  throws 
Its  shadow,  in  which  tyrants,  quaking,  view 

Their  thrones  unsafe,  and  Freedom's  combined  foes 
Stand  trembling,  while  world-vast  emprises  brew,    . 

And  Saxon  unity  takes  root  and  grows; 
This  unity,  world-power  and  world-emprise, 
The  eagle  and  the  lion  symbolize. 


AND  FREEDOM'S  MAGNITUDE.  105 


32 

Yea,  where  the  mountains  of  the  future  rise 
And  opportunity  finds  glorious  scope, 

Wealth  points  the  way  for  lofty  enterprise 
And  labor  views  the  beacon-star  of  Hope! 

Industry's  morn  is  blazing  in  the  skies, 

And  Freedom  calls  her  sons  no  more  to  grope. 

But  in  the  mastery  of  Brotherhood, 

To  scale  the  heights  of  greatest  human  good. 


33 

From  time  when  Morn  to  strew  Atlantic  sands 
With  liquid  pearls,  trips  from  her  amber  gates. 

Till  Evening  holds  a  rainbow  in  her  hands, 
And  at  the  doorway  of  the  Rockies  waits; 

From  North  Lakes  far,  and  from  the  harvest  lands 
Of  the  Dakotas  to  the  Sunny  States; 

From  woods  and  fields,  from  rivers  and  vast  mines, 

Now  Freedom  calls  us  to  cast  off  the  lines 


106  THE   SOUTHLAND'S    CHARMS 


34 

And  sail  forth  with  the  ship  and  breast  the  sea. 

On  all  our  hills  with  banners  of  green  corn, 
The  bugling  air  calls  out  to  rouse  the  free. 

In  all  our  vales  love's  busy  hands  adorn 
The  homes  that  are  the  goal  of  Liberty; 

And  robust  plenty  winds  his  jocund  horn 
For  pleasure's  throngs  to  meet  him  in  the  shade, 
Where  songful  boughs  have  his  pavilions  made. 


35 

Free  labor  still  our  country's  hope  remains, — 
In  this  our  largest  manhood  shall  be  grown; 

The  spirit  of  vast  woods  and  vaster  plains, — 
Canyons  and  geysers  of  the  Yellowstone; 

Alaskan  summits,  where  bald  winter  reigns, 
And  rests  on  base  of  gold  his  icy  throne, — 

These  all  are  prophecies  of  what  shall  be, 

When  Freedom's  sons  shall  leave  their  brothers  free. 


I 


AND  FREEDOM'S  MAGNITUDE.  107 


36  i 

^      Then  we  shall  heed  no  more  the  dreamer's  lute. 
But  join  the  thunderous  march  of  industry; 
The  mountain  gorge  shall  be  no  longer  mute, 
But  toil  shall  start  the  haunts  of  Revery; 
1  And  from  vast  mines  down  many  a  headlong  chute, 

The  burdened  car  in  iron  harness  fly, 
Filling  the  ancient  seats  of  Solitude 
With  throb  and  thrill  of  Labor's  Masterhood. 


37 

Our  Heav'n-blest  land  will  thenceforth  be  the  great; 

The  Blue  Ridge  Mountains,  those  fair  infant  heights, 
The  charm  and  glory  of  a  proud  old  State, 

Will  then  have  comprehended  human  rights; 
And  to  the  past,  the  obsolete,  relate — 

To  moonlight  trystings,  dreams  and  starry  nights- 
No  longer,  but  to  high  imperial  dower, 
Broad  civilization:  wealth,  expansion,  power. 


168  T#E    SOUTHLAND'S   CHARMS 

38 

Here  roll  our  streams  with  freedom  in  the  wave, 
And  birdsong  tunes  the  freedom  of  the  air; 

Here  manhood  fills  the  goblet  of  the  brave, 

And  Beauty's  cheeks  with  ruddy  life  are  fair. 

Here  larger  spheres  of  life  lead  one  to  crave 

No  boon  which  all  his  fellows  may  not  share; 

And  one  looks  forward  to  a  grander  day 

For  mankind,  opening  in  true  Freedom's  sway. 


*    39  < 

But  lingering  still,  the  light  of  olden  days 

Falls  softly  on  the  slopes  of  mem'ry  yet; 
And  I  am  looking  through  the  gentle  haze 

On  scenes  gone  by,  which  I  can  ne'er  forget. 
And  though  in  our  New  World's  imposing  phase 

The  great  ambitions  round  me  chafe  and  fret. 
Still  turning  to  the  quiet  past  I  find 
Old  scenes  surviving  which  delight  the  mind.  'jr: 


AND ;  FREEDOM^ ,  MAGNITUDE-  109 


4<V 

Oh,  happy  days  when  wealth  strove  to  create  ,..,,  ;•  t,  .M  .^; 

Those  homely  joys  which  man  now  little  knows;.; 
When  hounds  and  horns  found  patrons  in  the  great,        ?  J{  j 

And  stirred  to  lofty  emulation  those  ?!  >  ./ 

Who  held  the  foremost  rank  in  Church  and  State,          .  j ..  , , 

Who  highest  in  profound  achievements  rose;         / 
When  Beauty  even  threw  her  loving  heart 
Into  the  chase  and  took  a  brilliant  part.  ..,..,  ,lt      ,• 


41 

A  slender-waisted  Venus  of  the  chase,        ;  .      ...;. 

For  whom  one's  admiration  knew  no  bounds; 
A  tall  athletic  paragon  of  grace, 

She  sat  her  gr'lant  steed  and  rode  to  hounds.  .      : 
The  blood  of  heroes  glowing  in  her  face, 

Through  clam'rous  woods  and  over  open  grounds; 
The  horn  blast  sending  thrills  through  all  her  veins 
She  swept  before  and  held  the  fearless  reins. 


110  THE  SOUTHLAND'S  CHARMS 


43 

Oh!  that  the  golden  light  of  olden  days, 

In  all  but  slavery,  might  return  once  more! 

Oh!  for  the  fearless  manhood  which  essays 

To  champion  all  the  virtues  of  the  poor,       _ 

Which  scorns  to  imitate  the  vulgar  ways 

Of  upstart  fortune.     How  one  must  deplore 

The  painful  symptoms  of  decaying  taste, 

When  chivalry  is  dead  or  run  to  waste. 


43 

1  know  familiar  faces  on  the  walls 

*Of  time  may  look  down  from  the  long  ago, 
On  which  the  light  too  strong  at  present  falls, 

Revealing  what  we  should  not  care  to  know. 
But  still  the  lessons  which  a  look  recalls, 

Through  golden  mists  of  time  will  softly  glow; 
And  what  were  painful  else,  'tis  ever  true, 
Will,  down  the  vistas,  form  a  pleasing  view. 


AND  FREEDOM'S  MAGNITUDE. 


in 


44 

Oh,  for  a  harp  to  wake  and  fitly  sing 

The  homely  pleasures  which  I  used  to  know- 
That  some  sweet  spirit  of  the  past  might  bring 
To  me  the  forms  I've  loved  in  years  ago; 
'For  memory's  light  doth  still  around  me  fling 

Their  images  as  hearth-fires  shadows  throw. 
And  thus  I  linger  as  we  pass  along 
With  just  a  note  of  sadness  in  my  song. 


45 

Thus  I  can  hear  the  slave-songs  homeward  turning,— 
Those  Soul-felt  lays  that  left  no  trace  of  care, 

But  somehow  told  us  that  the  heart  was  yearning 
For  better  worlds,  where  man  to  man  is  fair. 

And  candles  through  the  whispering  twilight  burning, 
Stitl  shed  their  gleams  of  welcome  on  the  air; 

And  I  can  feel  with  nameless  throb  and  thrill, 

The  big  round  world  beginning  to  be  still. 


112  THE  SOUTHLAND'S  .CHARMS 


46 

Now  there's  a  lull; — earth's  great  heart  resting  beats, 
And  in  the  drowsy  leaves  just  out  of  reach,.  .... 

A  tree-frog  prophesying  rain,  entreats 

Dull  night  to  hear;  while  with  contentious  speech 

Her  old  dispute  the  katydid  repeats; 

A  night  owl  yonder  starts  her  witch-like  screech, 

And  in  the  brindled  shadow  of  the  hill, 

Behind  the  corn  field,  hark! — a  whippoorwill. 


47 

And  1  can  see  forms  round  the  Summer  fire 

Content  with  earth's  scant  bounties  for  the  poor; ' 

Can  hear  gay  talk  and  laughter  rising  higher; 
And  see  my  "old  black  mammy"  in  the  door. 

Can  hear  the  tune:  "Virginny  nebber  tire," 
See  Pickanninies  dancing  on  the  floor; 

Till  song  breaks  out  and  blossoms  on  the  air, 

And  mirth  has  put  to  flight  the  heels  of  Care. 


AND  FREEDOM'S  MAGNITUDE.  113 


48 

There  never  was  a  Delphian  priestess*  song, 
Nor  hymn  of  gods,  nor  laureled  victor's  lay, 

To  move  my  heart  like  sounds  when  \  was  young — 
Those  sounds  of  rest  which  closed  the  happy  day. 

No  oracle  could  ever  have  a  tongue 

That  in  my  ears  such  mystic  hints  could  say, 

As  I  have  heard  by  whisp'ring  maples  said, 

When  in  the  dusk  a  slave  his  banjo  played. 


49 

Grand  though  the  strides  of  New  World  enterprise, 
Though  with  success  our  vast  industries  hum, 

The  proud  old  South  must  still  turn  her  blue  eyes 
On  scenes  gone  by  until  at  times  there  come 

The  mists  of  sadness  in  them.     Sunny  skies, 
And  landscapes  that  are  the  perennial  sum 

Of  flow'r  and  fruit,  are  not  for  her  complete, 

While  one  is  absent  whom  no  more  she'll  meet. 


114  THE  SOUTHLAND'S  CHARMS 


50 

Her  proud  old  Negro  of  religious  mind, 

The  ebon  patriarch  of  sunny  eld, 
The  personage  most  noted  of  his  kind,    . 

The  one  in  gentlest  memory  ever  held, 

^*    j 

In  patient  servitude  no  more  she'll  find. 

His  day  is  past.     His  children  have  rebelled, 
Alas!  repudiated  slavery  days, 
And  through  the  schools  have  learned  the  new-found  ways. 


51 

And  yet  for  him  the  South  will  ever  morn; 

His  virtues  and  his  foibles  will  enshrine 
In  song  and  story.    Like  a  lover  lorn, 

In  beauty  peerless  and  in  faith  divine, 
And  by  her  splendid  valor  well  upborne; 

In  her  proud  heart,  still,  still  the  South  will  pine 
For  him  who  once  her  life  such  flavor  gave — 
The  pompous,  kindly,  faithful,  old-time  slavel 


AND  FREEDOM'S  MAGNITUDE,  115 

r 
52 

He  watched  the  cradle  of  white  innocence, 

And  feeble  age's  drooping  head  sustained; 
N  Rejoiced  when  day  without  a  cloud  commenced, 

But,  in  the  storm,  unmurmuring  still  remained. 
He  loved  his  master;  held  his  confidence, 

Esteem  and  love  in  turn,  and  honor  gained. 
.   His  taste  was  e'er  consulted  and  his  tact 
Employed — he  was  his  master's  lord,  in  fact. 

53 

But  he  is  gone!    His  passing  brings  a  sigh. 

And  thou,  Old  South,  superbly  fine  and  fairl 
Thou,  old  White  Lady,  of  a  reign  gone  by, 
.;  ,.       With  threads  of  silver  in  thy  sunny  hair, 
And  in  thy  gaze  the  blue  of  Summer  sky, 

While  breath  of  roses  steals  upon  the  air; 
Thou,  too,  dost  pass! — thy  skirts  of  silken  pride 
Trail  by,  alas!  through  halls  of  mem'ry  wide. 


116  THE  SOUTHLAND'S  CHARMS 


54 

And  there  are  voices  in  the  golden  gloom, 

Where  in  the  shadows  forms  of  loved  ones  meet. 

The  air  is  prodigal  of  rich  perfume — 

The  breath  of  shrubs  and  honeysuckles  sweet, 

While  down  the  hall  that  leaves  a  vacant  room, 
I  hear  the  brisk  sounds  of  departing  feet; 

And  I  must  pause,  and  say,  ere  fades  the  light: 

Thou  old  White  Lady  of  the  past — good  night! 


55  . 

But  let  them  go!     "  Old  Glory  "  waves  on  high.     ':!'•  :I*''M 
The  war  is  over,  and  the  slaves  are  free. 

The  Blue  Ridge  Mountains  look  into  the  sky, 
And  peaks  of  Otter  look  into  the  sea. 

Proud  heights,  from  which,  when  Randolph  rapturously 
Beheld  the  Heav'ns  with  sunrise  blushing,  he 

Declared  that  thence  he  must  in  God  believe — 

The  Cause  which  mind  must  in  such  works  perceive. 


V 

AND  FREEDOM'S  MAGNITUDE.  UT 


5<5 

Farewell,  alas!  my  native  land  adored!  ;  ,  ,ir . . .-, 
I've  sung  thy  praises  in  a  faithful  strain;  ,,. 

But  westward  life's  imperial  tides  have  poured,  ,; 
Eddying  in  towns,  and  sweeping  on  again,  \[, 

While  braver  hearts  have  in  their  strength  ignored 
The  old  South  limitations  which  remain. 

And  I  must  leave  the  land  which  gave  me  birth, 

Or  pine,  an  alien,  on  my  native  hearth. 


57 

Hail!  Morn  upon  the  mountains!    Orient  queen! 

Awakening  Earth  rejoices  in  thy  reign! 
A  world  of  fruited  hill  and  meadows  green, 

With  waving  seas  of  corn  and  bearded  grain, 
Far  spread,  invests  with  plenty's  glorious  sheen 

The  path  of  empire  o'er  the  western  plain; 
And  mind,  enlarged  by  areas  vast  and  heights 
Sublime,  perceives  the  scope  of  Human  Rights. 


118  THE  SOUTHLAND'S  CHARMS  | 


5« 

Hail!  Sovran  Rockies!     Sent'nels  of  the  sun! 

The  course  of  empire,  in  the  race  sublime 
Of  world-endeavor,  at  the  East  begun, 

With  thee  shall  end;  and  from  the  gates  of  Time 
Earth  shall  no  more  behold  such  races  run! 

Snow-mantled  sea-guards!    Bulwarks  of  our  clime, 
The  standard  of  triumphant  Equal  Rights, 
Forever  fly  from  thy  unconquered  heights! 


59 

Peaks  dipped  in  Heaven,  and  far-flung  bounds  of  space; 

Stupendous  canyons,  etirthquake-rlven  and  wrought, 
That  are  the  seams  of  age  in  Nature's  face — 

The  wrinkles  in  which  we  may  read  God's  thought; 
And  crags  piled  high — stairways  on  which  we  trace 

God's  footprints — these  have  all  sublimely  taught 
That  Freedom  in  her  strongholds  is  secure; 
That  God  shall  reign  and  Human  Rights  endure. 


AND  FREEDOM'S  MAGNITUDE.  119 


60    - 

Hail!  Rockies,  hail!  fit  for  Jehovah's  seat! 

Mid  thy  pavilions  of  the  curtained  mist. 
While  the  Pacific  couches  at  thy  feet, 
v       Rise  thou  for  aye  the  tyrant  to  resistl 
Rise  thou,  till  Freedom  calls  her  sons  to  meet, 

And,  crowned  with  gold  and  robed  in  amethyst, 
She  welcomes  all  the  earth  to  fill  her  train, 
Join  her  triumphant  march  and  share  her  reign. 


61 

Hall!  Rockies,  thunder-tongued,  hold  thou  the  watch 
Of  Freedom  from  thy  parapets  on  hlghl 

The  footsteps  of  the  rosy  morning  catch, 
And  hold  the  dying  glories  of  the  sky; 

For  in  sublimity  thou  hast  no  match,    . 
Thou  thi"....old  watchers  of  Eternity! 

Rise  in  the  way' of  Freedom's  every  foe — 

Rise  thou  for  aye,  O  Sovran  of  the  snow! 


120  THE1  SOUTHLAND'S  'CHARMS' 


.62 

-> 

On  thy  dread  summits  which  to  Heav'n  doth  soar      i: 
I  pause  where  thunders  sleep,  and,  gazing  through 

The  depths  that  lead  beyond  and  evermore, 

I  rest  till  heights  in  grandeur  piled  imbue        s    " 

The  Soul  with  praises  fitly  to  adore 

The  Awful  One  whose  power  alone  could  do 

The  works,  O  wondrous  Rockies,  thou  didst  see, 

Ere  trembling  day  came  forth  or  man  could  be! 


Here,  crag-watched  round,  the  Soul  hath  found  a  shrine,       '. 

And,  in  white  robes,  Thought  walks  with  Deity! 
Here  lips  of  awe  speak  oracles  divine 

'Mid  listening  heights  of  immortality;  .  / 

And  Heav'ns  eternal  watch-lights  here  shall  shine 

High  in  the  temple  dome  of  Liberty,  '.:..'• 

While  ages  marshal  in  their  silent  flight, 
Earth's  millions  in  defense  of  Truth  and  Right.  , 


AND  FREEDOM'S  MAGNITUDE..  121 


64 

1  had  a  dream:  Columbia  the  Great,  .•  ,  ....  ^  l  ,..r^  'ff.  .,o 

The  Arbitress  of  Nations  had  prevailed.       ,  _.     .  } 
V)  From  Europe  trains  crossed  bridge-spanned  Behrings's  Strait 

^  And  ships  through  Panama  from  South  Seas  sailed. 

Through  atmospheric  tubes  the  mail  and  freight      ..    ,.     ^ 

Skimmed  hill  and  dale  and  loftiest  mountains  scaled; 
Threading  the  richest  cities,  on  they  went,     (  ,    „.•:.,,  .,  •  j> 
And  in  a  few  hours  crossed  the  continent.          .• 


I  saw  our  fleets  guarding  a  hundred  seas,    .  ,«     ._,  ,.r,  ...  ^.j 

All  with  unshotted  guns  ride  proudly  home;  •  ^  ,A 
1  saw  the  hosts  that  watch  our  liberties 

:  '      '  -    '     ;"    "s\.     ->^>\) 

By  land  afar  from  bloodless  conquest  come.  •  •  ; y. 
And  shouts  of  welcome  then  rose  on  the  breeze,  •  .,.-,.  -  .; 

With  bells  and  whistles  in  uproarous  hum;          ,^ 
And  Peace's  multitudes  went  singing,  streaming    .      /     // 
Through  leagues  of  bunting,  and  of  standards  gleaming    , 


122  THE   SOUTHLAND'S   CHARMS 


66   . 

And  not  a  home,  a  mansion  or  a  hut 

In  all  the  land,  but  heard  the  call  that  day. 

From  plainsman's  ranch  and  miner's  cabin  shut 
In  forest  depths  and  mountain  far  away, 

The  sons  of  Freedom  came,  and  cities  put 

Their  millions  forth  to  swell  the  concourse  gay. 

It  was  a  jubilee  of  joy  and  tears: 

Columbia  had  reigned  a  thousand  years! 


67 

The  Sphinx  of  Race  Hate  looked  into  the  past,    ;. 

Unheeded  as  the  cheering  throngs  went  by 
In  thund'rous  unison,  a  concourse  vast, 

Proclaimed  the  triumphing  of  Liberty. 
The  walls  of  Wrong  had  gone  down  at  the  blast 

Of  Truth's  oncoming  trumpets;  Earth  and  Sky 
•     Attesting  the  inexorable  plan, 

That  all  men  shall  arise  in  raising  man.     .      , 


AND  FREEDOM'S  MAGNITUDE.  '  123 


68 

And  then  I  saw  that  Toil  need  not  sweat  blood; 

But  be  reduced  to  healthful  exercise. 
Yet  mankind  had  sufficiency  of  food, 
v     That,  barring  avarice,  all  had  full  supplies 
For  mind  and  body.    Then  I  understood — 

The  State-fixed  bounds  for  corporate  Enterprise, 
Adjusting  all  disputes  'twixt  Capital 
And  Labor  fairly — Law  deciding  all. 


I  saw  the  children  cared  for  by  the  State, 

As  well  as  by  their  parents — that,  indeed, 

The  notion  held  first  claim  in  all  the  great     . 

Concerns  of  health  and  training — man's  first  need. 

I  saw  that  man  must  rule  and  regulate 

His  home  by  love,  and  never  by  a  creed: 

That  health,  intelligence,  Morality, 

Saved  in  the  child,  safeguarded  Libert)  . 


124  THE    SOUTHLAND'S  CHARMS 


70 

i 
AnJ  so,  no  children  roamed  the  streets  at  will, 

In  hungry  shoals  to  swarm  the  streams  of  Time; 
But  wise  apprenticeships  restrained  them  till 

They  had  escaped  the  snares  of  early  crime, 
And  reached  safe  heights  of  industry  and  skill; 

And  there  was  not  allowed  a  wedding  chime 
When  there  was  presence  of  a  known  disease, 
Hence,  no  divorces,  no  adulteries. 


71 

I  saw  a  city  in  the  setting  sun, 

Superb  and  vast,  that  crowned  a  noble  height; 
It  was  the  city  of  the  Yellowstone. 

In  New  World  greatness,  from  its  ancient  site 
Removed — the  future's  Washington.  ,    .  ...V 

And  guarded  round,  in  its  unconquered  might, 
By  leagues  of  fortress,  was  a  populace 
Unnumbered,  drawn  from  ev'ry  human  race. . 


AND  FREEDOM'S  MAGNITUDE. 


125 


V 


:  '  7* 

» 

And  then  I  stood  within  a  stately  hall; 

Ten  thousand  brilliant  dancers  thronged  the  floor; 
'Twas  at  the  Nation's  great  Inaugural, 

And  there  were  guests  from  home  and  foreign  shon 
Statesmen  and  epauleted  warriors  tall, 

Churchmen  of  note,  and  far-famed  men  of  lore, 
All  in  the  sunny  light  of  woman's  love, 
With  airs  of  valor,  like  the  gods,  they  move. 


73 

On  swept  the  throngs,  in  eddies  whirled  and  flowed 
Through  flow'ry  aisles  and  tlag-hung  corridors; 
On,  on,  while  Fortune's  trophies  flashed  and  glowed 

'Neath  lamps  that  on  the  tessellated  floors 
Poured  floods  of  light;  and  strangers  proudly  strode 

Among  admiring  groups — the  guests  of  our  fair  shores- 
While- hid  in  labyrinths  of  shrubs  and  flowers, 
Enchanting  strains  beguiled  the  fleeting  hours. 


126 


THE  SOUTHLAND'S  CHARM^ 


74 

There  from  the  South  I  saw  the  blue-eyed  blonde, 
And  from  the  North  the  Junoesque  brunette; 

From  Hawaii  the  olive  maiden  fond, 
.    The  dainty  Cuban  with  her  eyes  of  jet—   - 

And  Octoroon  whose  beauty  was  beyond 
Description,  in  a  swirl  of  glory  met, 

Through  mazy  depths  of  flow'rs  and  lace  to  stream- 

A  symphony  of  lovely  forms — My  Dream.       ; 


;t»C 


